


Veils of Blood

by Heldpeach



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Original Vampire Lore - Fandom
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Earth, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood and Gore, Bloodmagic, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Shit is Dark, Dubious Morality, Eventual Romance, F/M, Modern Character in Thedas, Modern Girl in Thedas, Multi, No seriously she is going to destroy canon, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slavery, Slow Build, vampire lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-23 00:05:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13775457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heldpeach/pseuds/Heldpeach
Summary: ***Slow updates***Ari'yani is ancient.  For countless mortal lifetimes she has roamed the Earth.  To say she is a gallant hero would be grossly inaccurate.  For centuries she had been as despicable as her peers simply to survive.  Then one day, a millennia ago ... she had risen from her daily rest and fled.  She sought a cure to her endless night.She had turned away from Vampire Society, concealing her whereabouts, and searching for answers to her burning questions.  There were few to be found, much of the Lore of previous cultures having been wiped out in humanity's endless need for conquest.  The story of Vampiric origins were couched in fading myth and murky legend.No closer to an answer, she is captured by her former comrades.  Bound to a ritual altar she welcomes her impending death, but things are not as hopeless as they appear.  She is torn from mother Earth and Thedas has no idea what they are in for.





	1. Blood Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys think this is as good an idea as I do. Let me know in the comments if this is something you'd like to see continued. 
> 
> As I warn in the summary, the updates will be sparse on this story until 'Bad Moon Rising' is complete. The outline for this story has been burning a hole in my brain for several years now. I actually intended to write this one BEFORE my other story, but as we can see Luna's tale pulled me in. :)
> 
> Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Vampire terms are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  Translations and Definitions are in end chapter notes.

Ari'yani refused to scream even as her captor drew the silver blade across her lower abdomen, laying open her stomach. The purity of the Athame's silver caused the wound to smoke, preventing her from healing the damage it inflicted. She fought with all her considerable strength against the magic that bound her wrists. A violent, back-handed blow struck her jaw in response. Snarling, she dropped her fangs in defiance, though she knew in her heart that her struggles were futile.

Jeweled rivulets of her precious life's blood filled an obsidian chalice that her **Progenitor** dipped into the open wound. She couldn't help the growl that escaped as he brought the goblet to his lips with a feral grin. Ari'yani spat a curse, only to then immediately shudder in revulsion as he flung the contents of the ritual goblet across both her naked body and the stone Altar she lay on. The blood quickly pooled along her tribal scarring; the legacy of a people that no longer existed, and that few even remembered.

She wasn't surprised when an eerie green glow encompassed her. Ari'yani had grown accustomed to all manner of vile magics over the course of her unnaturally long life. Her entire body seized, her back involuntarily arching as a searing pain built within her, but she would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her break. The pillars that stood at the cardinal points surrounding the ritual space flared with brilliant shades of mauve and purple as the Runes carved upon them came to life. She could feel her energy torn from her; siphoned away in the creation of the spell.

When her unlife had been new, the shadowed world had seemed a comfort in comparison to the shackles of her mortal existence. She had foolishly chosen this … life. Too late she realized that she had simply traded one form of slavery for another. Only this time she had found herself eternally bound to the creature that demanded her unwavering loyalty. She had rebelled and Ari'yani had evaded her kind for over two thousand years before finally being caught.

Her curses were easily missed even to the enhanced senses a Vampire, lost in the building chanting of the gathered followers of a new dark God. A fell voice had called to them across the **Ether** with promises of conquest and more power. Always they hungered for more. She wished every ill imaginable upon them all.

“You are all damned! Oath breaker I name you Invictus! Curse you and all your **Kith**! May you meet the sun, and be rent to naught but ash!” His countenance was abominable; the inner cruelty of his soul having manifested physically to mar his outward appearance the longer he lived. Ari'yani in contrast had clung to her humanity and save for her pointed ears and inhuman reflexes could easily pass for mortal. She would have liked to say she screamed her epithets at the monstrosity she had once called 'Master'. The truth was that it came out more as a croaking whisper.

“It's Victor now … but you were always so slow to change. Don't be so melodramatic my dear. Your essence brings renewal to the **Fold**. Besides, this was practically your idea.” He loomed over the bound woman with unsuppressed glee as he taunted her. “What was it you used to say? Ah yes … 'I tire of this endless night!' ... When did you lose that fire I wonder. How did you allow the chattel to become more than simply food? What foolishness led your path to stray from mine.” He gripped her by the throat, growing angrier as he ranted, and she was grateful that she no longer had a need to breathe. She hoped he would lose control and break her neck, but he restrained himself. “How dare you spurn my gifts and call it justice. How dare you cast aside my love,” he demanded.

She could feel her mind beginning to fog with the loss of blood, and struggled to find the energy to retort. “You will never walk in the light again Invictus. Your heart was a withered husk long before I **Arose** … there is no LOVE in you,” she hissed.

Using what little strength she had remaining, she reached for the weave of the spell and dug into it with her own energies, entwining cords of her power through the complicated latticework. She could feel that her efforts were corrupting the spell and preventing its completion. However, even as she did so she felt as if she was being torn from the natural flow of reality. She didn't care, as long as she stopped whatever they were planning, she had lived long enough.

There was suddenly an explosion of magic, the current shattering the pillars and cracking the Altar in half beneath her. He released her throat, tearing it open as he was flung away with great force. Her bindings vanished and she thought it odd she had not fallen to the blood encrusted stones. Instead she was held aloft, her auburn hair cascading about her like a curtaining waterfall.

All she could see was more of that strange green light. Her eyes fluttered closed as she heard Invictus' curses. Whatever he had intended, the spell had obviously gone awry. He could have kept her alive for centuries, draining her again and again in his mad attempts to cure himself; simultaneously inflicting his revenge. Instead she knew that she was falling beyond his reach, and couldn't help but smile as she was enveloped by the blinding light.

* * * * * *

Ari'yani was more than a little surprised when she opened her eyes. It wasn't so much the surrounding ruins or the snow covered countryside that was startling but the fact she still lived at all. Blood oozed from her ragged neck and slashed stomach but she was relieved to find her arcane bonds had been dispelled. Whatever magics had transported her seemed to have temporarily imbued her **Bloodstores** with greater potency than was natural; enough to stem the bleeding.

Wherever she was it appeared a large green rent in the air was responsible for depositing her here. Unstable magics washed against her undead skin and she shivered at the sensation. Sniffing the cool night air she caught an unfamiliar mammalian scent on the breeze. Whatever it was she needed to find it quickly. The urge to **Feed** was becoming overwhelming, the **Thirst** driving her closer to her bestial nature. She cautiously righted herself against an ancient stone archway. It was then she noticed that she was not alone.

Strange ghost like wraiths drifted about the ruin, circling around the pulsing tear she found herself beneath. The Vampire tensed, preparing to fight for her life, but they only ignored her. She scented the air again, uneasy at the evidence before her eyes. She had spent hundreds of years searching for real proof of spiritual existence. In all her years Ari'yani had never encountered a true spirit, only chicanery and superstition.

Looking further up she gaped in wonder at what appeared to be a raging green whirlpool that thundered in the sky. Large flaming meteors fell from it with startling frequency. It was larger than any summoned storm she could recall, and none of those had been such a vibrant shade. Even from this distance she could feel the magic pouring from it … and it was growing. This was a world gone mad. If the destruction being rained down were widespread the human population would likely be rioting, possibly ushering in the end of the modern era.

_What have I DONE? This is monstrous! What new horrors have we unleashed upon the Earth? Have I learned nothing? How many more will die because of my mistakes?!_

She took an experimental step and watched the phantoms warily. When they showed no signs of pursuit she calmly strode in the direction of the warm creature she had detected before. The gamy aroma was making her mouth water, her fangs already slipping into place against her will. Her hunt was clumsier than she would have liked, marred by her desperation. Fortunately she caught the pink, wriggling creature with little effort, and eagerly sank her teeth into its throbbing jugular.

Ari'yani growled in surprise at the depth of flavor that exploded across her tongue as its life ebbed away, giving her new strength. She had subsisted on inferior blood substitutes and animals for hundreds of years, never quite sating the gnawing hunger within her. Modern medicine had done much to help in this endeavor and had enabled her to effectively evade her former Master. Unfortunately it could never have fully replaced her need to **Feed** on the sea of humanity that had overpopulated the Earth. Yet even THEIR blood had grown tasteless as they ravaged themselves and poisoned the world.

She had quieted her conscience by slaking herself only on the guilty; though still occasionally killing any mortal foolish enough to be caught. Some men deserved the kiss of death, and it had been a privilege for her to deliver it. Her ability to rewrite the recent memory of those victims that survived an encounter had been a boon not all of her kind possessed. Cellphones were the bane of their existence and she had destroyed every one she'd stumbled upon.

THIS **Feeding** was unlike anything she was accustomed to. The blood was thick with magic, **Feeding** the beast that lurked inside her, full to bursting in moments. There was no malignant sickness, the blood unpolluted. No mere rodent had EVER quenched the **Thirst** so quickly. Her wounds began healing almost immediately; flesh and tendon knitting together as she drained the last drop with a groan. Her body warmed with the blood of her kill, and she blushed as she looked at the remnants of her meal.

She had not made such a mess of it in nearly a thousand years; the last time she had sustained such grievous injury. Ari'yani knew her face would be in no fit state should anyone happen upon her. Copious amounts of visceral red was smeared across her normally porcelain features. The need to heal had driven all rational thought from her, and she looked at her hands in shame. Whatever this poor animal had been, she had given it a needlessly painful death.

Ari'yani doubled over suddenly and let out a gasp of agony that Invictus' tortures had failed to produce. She stared at her left breast in disbelief, then howled as she felt it again. Her heart, long atrophied from disuse, had begun to beat. Her astonishment only grew, as she drew in a long rasping breath. The first real use of her lungs since her rebirth into darkness. Veins kept full over the centuries by dark magic alone began to expand, the rush of plasma loud to her enhanced senses.

She roared at the foreign, swirling, sky as her body reanimated. The Vampire was oblivious to all but the changes being wrought on her. Her skin felt like it was on fire, her bones suddenly heavy, marrow rekindling its long dormant purpose. Long ago she had found herself caught outside at dawn and even that unfathomable pain was preferable to this. The fires raging within her made immolation by a burning sun, pale by comparison. Her grueling ordeal complete, she scanned her surroundings as the first apparition took notice of her.

It threw some form of green projectile in her direction and she was suddenly gratified to find her meal had not simply reversed her condition. Her unnatural reflexes and strength appeared to be intact. Easily dodging the energy she charged her attacker, swiping her glass sharp nails in an arch through its form. Smiling in triumph as it recoiled, she took stock of her efforts against it and attempted to tear it to shreds. Her tremendous blows passed through it with little resistance, but it was in fact corporeal. Though not completely solid she could injure it. If she could injure it ... then she could kill it.

She renewed her assault on the creature even as sensations she had thought gone forever inundated her. Excitement flushed through her as the heat of battle caused her heart to pump harder. She was giddy; long dead body chemistry awakening as she tore into her next target. The roar of her own blood, the rush of adrenaline, the shortness of breath … pure unadulterated excitement; how could she have forgotten all this?

Ari'yani was making short work of the ghostly attackers when heat began erupting from the ground near the peculiar tear. Emotions she had not known in thousands of years, clawed at the primordial parts of her mind. She froze, mesmerized by the entity that slowly materialized before her. She could do nothing to control the raw, unmuted emotions reawakened in this unnatural place. Fear, true fear, ripped through her.

_Am I dead then? Have I been banished to the Netherworld? Am I finally to be punished for all the wrongs I committed in life and undeath? That … would take an eternity._

The being before her was flame incarnate. Fire was a vulnerability that none of the **Fold** could defeat. Their bodies lit easily like kindling, and she had seen more than one vampire consumed by the roar of a well placed torch. As it slunk forward, scorching all in its path, she finally tore her gaze away and forced her unfeeling limbs into motion. She had barely backed away a step when she was startled by the sound of steel being unsheathed, and the drum of several crossbow bolts. 

Someone leapt towards the raging inferno, flashing blades finding the creature's weak points with practiced ease. Rarely had she witnessed such skill in wielding melee weaponry. She glimpsed archaic leather armor amidst the flurry of attacks. Then the taste of magic, more powerful than anything she had encountered thus far, thrummed in the air. Her newly beating heart jumped with her rising panic as a single thought precluded all others.

 **Huntsmen.**

Ari'yani fled into the evergreen forest. They were yelling something she couldn't understand, but her curiosity was overridden by her survival instincts. If there was something she excelled at it was survival, and she had not escaped her **Progenitor's** clutches only to be done in by children playing at hero. Branches whipped by her at supernatural speed and though she didn't sense pursuit she kept up her pace for well over an hour. Despite her racing heartbeat it wasn't exhaustion that slowed her steps. As she cleared the forest and crested a large hill, the tableau before her took her breath away. 

A small hamlet, nestled between the frigid mountains, winked in the night with torchlight. The familiar scent of wood-smoke tickled her nose and she gaped at the obviously thatched and wood shingled roofs. That would have been remarkable enough considering she had not seen such a village in centuries. Reinactors inevitably got the details wrong, it was a product of poor history keeping and bad translations … not to mention modern sensibilities and hygiene. This place however was fully authentic, the smell of animal feces, rotting vegetation and unwashed human teasing her oldest memories.

Two moons, one larger than should have been possible, the other with an unfamiliar surface glared down at her from the night sky. Much to her discomfort, she found the emerald light dancing across the blanketing snow quite beautiful. Her mind reeled with the implications of all she surveyed. It appeared that she was in a land with little if any industrial development. Then there was the fact that magic had permeated her every experience since arriving.

_Time travel? Is that even possible? I have never seen magics behave this way … did I cause this? Perhaps ... those were not_ **Huntsmen** _after all. There are simply too many variables … I require more data._

Guilt began to gnaw at her, but she pushed the emotion aside. She was used to feeling guilt, and wallowing would serve no purpose. She needed to find a way to clothe herself before any more locals found her. Then she would look for much needed answers. Survival. That was what mattered right now, and she had perilously little information regarding what she had fallen into. Knowledge was power, and currently she felt very powerless.

Moving as only a creature of the night could, she jumped the palisade and stalked into the sleeping community. There were several night watchmen, but she avoided them without incident. They appeared to be human, and their muted senses seemed consistent with what she knew. She was gratified to find that someone had left some clothing hanging out on a windowsill to air out. The cut of the clothing was different than she was used to, but she purloined a simple linen shirt, and a pair of loose fitting trousers. Hopefully they would not be missed until she was long gone.

Retreating to a nearby frozen lake she cracked the ice and plunged beneath the surface to remove any obvious blood and grim. As she pulled the clothing on she paused. She noticed her skin was only turning slightly pink despite the cold. It would appear her tolerance for extreme temperature was still greatly above that of a mere mortal. Examining herself as she listened to the rhythm of her own heart she took a deep steadying breath and noted the faint steam she exhaled. Her body was driving her to distraction.

_How do people not go mad with the constant thumping?!_

Shaking herself from these thoughts she gingerly set a bare foot into a nearby snowdrift and wiggled her toes. It tickled but felt only slightly cool; the powder not even melting against her skin. Just what were the limitations of this remade shell? Making her way back around the lake, and passing an aging wooden dock, she avoided the unusually high number of tents. A military force looked to be occupying this small idyllic village and that only raised more questions. What possible draw could there be in such a boring little place? She once again made her way into the town, endeavoring not to be seen. Dawn would be approaching soon, and it would not be advisable for her to be caught outdoors. Picking her way across the town she discarded several obvious options, including a small pub, before finding what she sought. 

The local … church she supposed, appeared to have a crypt and she detected at least one secret tunnel. Finding several locked doors she cast a cantrip to pick the locks and chose a rather comfortable looking library, complete with cozy arm chair, to spend her daylight hours. Judging by the state of the cobwebs and the stale air, no one would bother her down here. She re-locked the door, barring it further by dragging a large bookcase in front of it. It would give her sufficient warning should anyone choose to wake her. Feeling somewhat secure she drifted quietly into slumber.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Progenitor : **The Vampire responsible for causing another to _Rise_ as _Kith_ ******
> 
> Ether : **Earth's version of the Fade**  
> 
> 
> Kith : **A Vampire**
> 
> Kin : **Human**
> 
> Fold : **Vampire Society/Culture**
> 
> Arose/Arisen/Rise/Rose : **The act of becoming a Vampire**
> 
> Bloodstores : **A Vampire's Reservoir of Blood. Used to fuel their abilities and maintain existence.**
> 
> Thirst : **The ever present, gnawing hunger which drives a Vampire to _Feed_ on blood.**
> 
> Feed/Feeding/Fed : **In terms of the _Kith_ ; the consumption of blood.**
> 
> Huntsmen : **An international organization committed to the annihilation of all _Kith_**.


	2. Sangine Repose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ari'yani has a nightmare, Vampire sneaks around Haven, and uses quite a bit of blood magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't obvious, if you are squeamish about blood, this probably isn't the fic for you.
> 
> Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Vampire terms are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  Languages of Thedas : **_As currently shown in this third lame example._**
> 
> Translations and Definitions are in end chapter notes.

Ari'yani inhaled the delicate scent of a spring garden in bloom. The light was far too bright, the flowers too perfect. Hints of rare Roman perfume and extinct Persian blooms lingered tantalizingly in the air. The sunlight played across her skin as she lay in the soft grass enjoying the rays' subtle warmth. To her dismay the pleasant tingling quickly became searing pain. Her exposed skin started to smoke and she desperately searched about her for shelter. 

The flowers and crumbling archways around her offered no sanctuary. There was no reprieve from the intensifying light. The torturous sun bore down evermore fiercely into her flesh. She knew with absolute certainty that she was about to die when suddenly a whispered voice came to her. She spun; shocked to find a tree where none had stood before.

In blind panic she dove into the safety offered by the tree's shade. Instantly the searing heat vanished, replaced by a biting cold, and a gnawing hunger. The emptiness clenching at her belly was worse than any she had ever experienced before. She could think of nothing else; filled with the urge to sate the growing chasm. The whispering grew louder and seemed to emanate from all directions.

Seeking its source her eyes fell upon a single, glistening, apple just within reach. It hung low; taunting her with the promises of crisp sweetness. Again the hunger pulled at her and she grabbed the fruit, violently snapping it from its branch without pausing to consider. Suddenly, the tree began to scream, as blood poured from its ravaged limb in a steady horrific stream.

Ignoring the tree's lamentations, she ravenously bit into her prize. The apple never touched her tongue, as the moment her teeth pierced its skin, the fruit crumbled to blackened ash. Again the whispering surrounded her, replacing the screams of the tree. Louder and more insistent than before, it drew her attention to a dense cluster of low branches.

Within the shadows a pair of crimson eyes appeared, burning with a hellish light. Just as her mind registered their presence, they sprung towards her. The serpent slammed into her with the full force of its attack. Its jaws swung open and it sank its gleaming fangs into her throat. The impact drove her backwards, casting her to the ground in open sunlight. The snake, whose length was easily three times her height, coiled itself about her in a crushing grip.

Instantly flames engulfed her body, though the creature was left unharmed by them. The fire ate into her muscles, and they reduced to ash as swiftly as had the apple. Her bones began to powder and she opened her mouth to scream … and bolted upright; awakened by a violent pulse of magic emanating from somewhere nearby.

Her heart hammered in her chest and her lungs burned as she struggled to pull in enough air. Unused to such mortal considerations; it took her longer to clear her mind than she was typically accustomed to. She tried to shake the grip of the intense night-terror from her mind, but the visuals refused to be purged. Her birth-tribe had believed that dreams were messages from their gods. Modern science insisted they were merely the product of one's brain, random synapses firing, or perhaps the correlation of new experience. Considering her immortal existence was thought to be fantasy by those same modern scientists; she wasn't sure what she believed anymore.

The symbolism of what she'd endured was obvious, but was it a message from the beyond, or a product of her own guilt ridden soul? Then there was the still burning question … DID she still possess a soul? Still recovering from the dream she searched her surroundings to ensure she was indeed alone. Not a cobweb seemed out of place and she checked her **bloodstores** out of centuries old habit. 

Ari'yani was disturbed to sense how low it had fallen during her slumber. Though far more palatable; the small rodent-like creature she had drained could only sustain her for a single night it seemed. She needed to **feed** , sooner rather than later, preferably on a sentient ... donor. Finding a low-life to meet this need would be preferable, but she knew nothing of these lands. The Vampire was jolted from her thoughts by another wave of that strange power, though it was more subtle than before. She gracefully rose to investigate. It was time to explore her boundaries. 

She listened intently and opened herself to the night. The thrum of several heartbeats, like the dull undertone of someone absently humming, alerted her to the presence of at least four individuals. One of them was clearly wounded, the familiar coppery bite of blood, thick and cloying in the air. It was not a recent injury, someone had tended to it with a crude mixture of herbs, the bitter scent reminding her faintly of garlic. It made her smile as she remembered old superstitions that claimed the potent plant warded her kind away. Nothing could be further from the truth. Ari'yani quite enjoyed the spicy flavor it added to her prey. 

More distantly she was alerted to some sort of Mass being conducted above her. As she listened to the faint, melodic, chanting it came as a surprise that she couldn't understand a word of it. They were singing in a language unknown to her. After over three thousand years, there were very few tongues that she didn't speak. She should have been able to at least place the guttural consonants, and twisting vowels. This only served as further proof that she had crossed into an unknown plane. Luckily she knew a quick remedy to this problem … unique to one of her nature, and it coincided with her need for a meal. 

She went rigid as foreign magics erupted nearby only to be contained by a fainter echo carrying its same signature. Quietly she removed the bookcase blocking the entrance; intending to seek out the source of these disturbances. Suddenly the weaker pulse flared out with terrible ferocity, containing the more chaotic of the energies, filling her with awe. Ari'yani had never felt anything so inherently beguiling. It was undeniably masculine, the wielder of this energy, and she shuddered as the sudden desire to **feed** from this being clawed at her mind. However she had not survived this long by simply giving into her every base whim or desire. 

As quickly as the show of metaphysical prowess began, it abruptly ended. The awesome might was completely hidden even to her own probing abilities and whomever it was appeared as weak and tame as before. Ari'yani was no fool, and could tell that something dangerous had been contained, both the true nature of the caster, and the target of the containment spell. To what end or purpose she did not yet know. 

The **Psionicists** , **Sorcerers** , **Wizards** and **Sensitives** of Earth had been nearly wiped out centuries ago. Their bloodlines had been diminished by a predatory religion hungry for more power and land. Old world Priests/Priestesses, Shamans, Medicine men/women, Spirit singers, Seers, Scientists, free thinkers, and even innocent cooks were consumed by the fires of religious hysteria. Even the last of the werewolves had succumbed to the violent purges. The supernatural creatures may have individually been more powerful than a single human, but a mob was a mob. Nothing had yet been found that could match mass, unadulterated, human rage given a tempting target. 

The surviving Vampire clans had tried and failed to breed the power anew, so as to add them to their own shrinking ranks. Ari'yani herself had been chosen for such a bloodline. No mortal Mage strong enough to do more than light a candle, or move a penny a few paltry inches, had been born since the Inquisitions had … sterilized that particular strain of the human population. It had dulled an already lessening world, and she had mourned the senseless killings. 

Muted conversation between a gruff sounding woman and the mysterious wielder of these magics echoed down the corridor. She wondered at the woman's audacity … surely such a powerful being could easily swat the impertinent lecturer with little effort. It suggested the woman had no idea what lurked so near her. It was beyond intriguing and Ari'yani looked forward to unraveling these secrets. She had not been so entertained in years beyond count. Not two nights in this place and she found herself drawn to these folk in a way she'd thought lost forever. The speakers passed directly by her door and she waited until they were well beyond earshot before finally venturing forth. 

Creeping from her hiding place she edged along the hallway and cast **Shadowmeld;** taking advantage of the poor lighting. For all intents and purposes Ari'yani was no longer IN the corridor. Only another Vampire, or a **Sensitive** would be able to detect her presence… at least that had been the case on Earth. Now was as good an opportunity as she was likely to get in testing if this remained true. Just as she had deduced; a single mortal had been left watching over the doorway that led to the newly contained, pulsating, force.

She paused just beyond the ring cast by the torchlight and awaited a reaction. The tang of blood had grown stronger the closer she approached, and it was clear that this was a dungeon. Ari'yani blinked in surprise as she realized the guard was a woman. This would have been an impossibility in an equivalent society on Earth. It was interesting, and she looked forward to learning more about this culture. Predictably there was no reaction to her presence in the shadows and she quickly searched for what might warrant such a security measure. Curiosity bloomed and she found herself unable to simply ignore such an opportunity.

The Vampire blatantly stalked up to the guardswoman, revealing herself. The armored human was well trained and had her sword drawn in less time than it took for Ari'yani to reach her but it was futile. Their eyes met momentarily in the gloom just as something spattered the guard's face. Several small droplets of Ari'yani's blood, flung from a casually sliced fingertip, absorbed into the woman's exposed skin. She ceased to move and her eyes became vacant. The Vampire eagerly approached the woman to **feed** , seizing her by the throat and shoulder.

Just as her fangs sought out the woman's vulnerable neck Ari'yani recoiled in disgust. Something repellent, and distinctly metallic, lingered in the human's veins. Only their close proximity and the mingling of their blood, had aided the Vampire in sensing it. This was no plague, or ordinary illness, nor did it appear to be genetic. It was reminiscent of the toxicity found in modern day junkies, but there was magic at work here, and it was creating an uncomfortable buzzing tone in her mind. This was truly disappointing, and Ari'yani discarded the now useless human roughly against the wall.

She left the woman mesmerized, planting a dull memory of placidly falling asleep at her post, and continued her explorations. Laying in the center of the adjacent room, and firmly chained to the floor, lay one of the strangest creatures she'd ever seen, and it made her smile. Finally, something NEW. The large man, at least she assumed it was male, had curving horns of bone growing from its head and long dark hair.

The gray skinned monstrosity revealed sharp teeth and claws to rival her own and she concluded that if this WAS Hell then it must be a type of demon. He was easily eight feet tall, and would clearly tower over her thin, six foot frame. The man's body bore several neatly treated wounds on his heavily muscled body, but the glowing green scar on his hand was what truly drew her attention. It felt exactly like the odd fissure that had dropped her into this world the previous evening. She was alarmed when she realized that the figure in question was dying. The mark was growing, trying to consume him, much like the looming storm devoured the skies above.

_Well that won't do. I have yet to taste you. If you are unique that would be a tremendous waste. Besides which I still have questions about you that need answering._

The **Sorcerer** that she had sensed earlier had clearly attempted to slow the energy bound to the unconscious man's hand. It would buy him some time yes, but he had failed to take into account the life energies being drained as well. It would take longer for his body to disintegrate, but what good would it do if the man was already a corpse? Still, the barriers surrounding the erratic energies were truly astonishing. Not since before her tribe was massacred had she witnessed such intricate warding. Was this level of Mastery common in this realm?

Ari'yani froze when she heard soft snoring from the doorway. The guard would not stay incapacitated forever and thinking quickly, she decided to save this large prisoner. It wouldn't hurt to have someone predisposed toward liking her even if he didn't know why. Cradling the man's head in her lap, and avoiding the wickedly sharp head ornamentation, she used her thumb to slice open her own wrist and pressed the bleeding wound to his lips. This next bit of spell-work would take quite a bit more blood than the parlor trick of subduing the tainted woman and would leave her weaker.

_And here I thought I'd be the one getting a meal._

She massaged the great throat of the man, forcing him to swallow once, twice, and three times. It didn't take much coaxing once the **vitae** touched his lips, but she didn't want him to choke. All the while she visualized the weave of the spell, linking the man's body with her immortal blood. This was unlike the process that would rebirth him into darkness, she had no intention of creating more of her kind … yet. She gave him only enough to fuel his continual healing against the magical parasite. It left her feeling faint and her vision began to blur. Time would tell whether the spell would need to be renewed at a later date, but for now, he would survive.

Her task complete she was startled to hear someone entering the corridor and wiped the remnants of her blood from the man's face as quickly as possible. Melding with the nearby shadows just in time, she could just make out a tall bald man wearing the same style tunic she currently wore. Scoffing at the slumbering guard he set a tray beside the prisoner and knelt to work on him. She cursed her diminished senses when he paused suddenly and gently lifted an obviously blood stained finger from the prisoner's lips, then again from the ground beside him with a frown. Ari'yani's still healing wrist had left a small but obvious trail. She fled in haste, lest she be discovered, just as she felt the man begin scanning the room with his magic.

_Damn this blood loss. It would be just my luck if this were a monastary and baldness were a requirement._

The Vampire ascended the staircase with supernatural speed, narrowly avoiding the low hanging chandeliers. Deftly opening the staircase exit she was surprised to see the gathered congregation kneeling before a … priestess. That was a refreshing thing to see again after so long. Keeping to the shadows she made her way to the back of the crowd and was relieved to find the large doors open to the winter cold. The last thing she needed was to draw attention to herself as she left. Still it was odd they would prop them open. It could not have been comfortable.

The frigid air reinvigorated her and she was able to bring her senses back into focus through an act of will. She was just about to leave when she caught a good glimpse of one of the servants kneeling in a nearby corner, and she stopped briefly to stare. At first her instincts readied her for fight; so certain was she that this was another Vampire. Then reason reasserted itself. She took in the woman's countenance and truly analyzed it.

The woman appeared weak with malnutrition and cowered at the faintest sound. She eyed the armored knights warily, and had bruising along her thin limbs. The pointed ears, much longer than her own, and large eyes were a novelty but that wasn't the reason they held her interest. Her ancient mind provided a name for the being before her, _alfr_ or elf in her modern tongue. 

_Have I fallen into the realm of the Fae? What next, shall I encounter Oberon or Queen Mab? Or perhaps Pan will arrive in the presence of wood nymphs and centaurs!_

Scenting the air she noted that the alien woman smelled curiously of magic … it was quite … alluring. This was no Vampire. The **Fold** exuded only the hint of their last meal and in rare instances decay. The prospect of sampling one made her pulse quicken, she was VERY hungry. Quickly scanning the crowd she found that indeed this creature was not the only one of her kind in attendance. She did find it strange that they all seemed to be here in a servile capacity. With the strong presence of magic in their blood should they not have Mastery over the humans? 

_Perhaps I should attempt to blend in as one of these … people. No one notices a servant and my ears are very similar, though not quite so large._

The sun had well and truly set beyond the mountain ridge when she tore herself away from watching the elves. Testing her theory she took up a submissive posture as she passed directly by several well armed guards. As expected they ignored her presence and she chuckled to herself as she slowly mapped out the village. It was larger than she had originally thought. Small houses and businesses, including the bustling pub, were nestled in every available nook afforded by fortifications. It also seemed they were trying to build several trebuchets for defensive purposes. Taking in the condition of the wooden wall, she judged it all to be quite new. 

_I can't have traveled back in time, I don't recognize this language, the culture is unfamiliar, and the entire village is anachronistic. It's as though several time periods were all mashed together … like a bad Renaissance Festival with a vague label of 'medieval' without knowledge of the time periods involved. Need I any more proof of my displacement? … Perhaps I do._

Judging by the large amount of iconography to be found; she seemed to have stumbled into some sort of religious commune. The presence of an occupying army and hastily built fortifications, combined with religious furor, made her understandably nervous. She had lived through more than one war fueled by blind faith, some of them directed at her personally. If past experience had taught her anything; it was that religious wars always ended in tragedy for everyone.

Having learned her way around the town, which appeared to be filled with refugees, she followed several servants headed on some task beyond the gates. Grabbing an empty basket she slipped away easily and found herself passing by the military leader's tent. There was a man, of obvious rank, wearing heavy armor and what appeared to be a mantle made of fur, yelling at a squire or messenger. She may not have understood their words, but body language and tone seemed to carry the same meaning here.

The officer met her eyes for a moment, her pale silver to his amber gold, and she found herself slowing to stare him down. Cursing inwardly at her mistake, she forced herself to appear sheepish, and scurried away towards the forest; by all appearances on some late mundane task. A glance back once she had reached the sheltering tree line, reassured her that no one was following, and she abandoned her burden. Ari'yani wasn't sure what had come over her. Something about the man was deeply unsettling. The same discordant vibration she had sensed from the dungeon guard had seemed stronger near the tents. 

Abandoning her burden she lifted her nose to the wind, searching for something to eat. Another of those small pink things would more than suffice for now, but she hoped to find someone foolish enough to be alone. Parsing through the various smells of unwashed bodies and open trenches took some doing, but it was an old skill she had honed to perfection. 

There … someone had passed this way several hours before and had yet to return. It was possible they had left the village altogether but she doubted it. The scent markers indicated the human was elderly which made it unlikely he would begin a long journey so late. Tracking him wasn't entirely necessary as it appeared he had taken the obvious path. Still, she used her senses to keep watch for any unpleasant surprises. 

She arrived at a solitary cabin and watched from the underbrush as her target went about performing some chore. He tended several odd plants near the home, the leaves of which were bluish green in color, and she grew curious as he harvested them while leaving the plants relatively intact. Why would he cultivate just a solitary existence?

Spying on him through a window, she watched in fascination as he prepared the leaves using what appeared to be an alchemy table. He distilled something from the plant, adding ingredients he read from what appeared to be a large tome. He then filled a dozen hand crafted glass vials which he sealed with beeswax. Having finished his task he finally retired for the night and she quietly stole into the unsuspecting man's home.

_This makes no sense. This building has no fireplace, that is a brazier in the center of the room. It has windows with no glass, but no shutters. The smoke would be scattered by the crosswind from the windows, but would then coalesce at the ceiling finding no escape. The occupant would smother to death, and their ceilings would all be black from the years of soot. They must have some means of dissipating the smoke beyond the mundane, or that is not wood in the brazier … perhaps a fuel I am unfamiliar with._

She examined the old man with a critical eye, and opened herself to her surroundings. Ari'yani wasn't exactly sure WHAT she was searching for, but was shocked when the man's chaotic aura slammed into her own, knocking her against the back wall with unbelievable force. Paperwork scattered across the room, and shattered glass littered the floor. 

He bolted upright and the room was cast in blinding light. Magic in the right hands could subdue one of her kind by flame or compulsion. She fought to stave off the **Ravening** ; the source of the everlasting hunger which could overtake all Vampires, destroying what was left of their humanity. If she gave into the beast within she would be little more than a mindless monster ... perhaps forever. To encounter a second caster in such close proximity to the first, this one strong enough to fling her across a room, was something of a shock. 

“ _ **Who are you?! What are you doing in my home? Begone, do you have any idea who I am?!**_ ” the man bellowed though she could hear and smell the fear he readily exuded. Giving him no further time to react she charged him and tapped his third eye with her power hand's index and middle fingers. It was similar to her earlier spell, but was easily broken as she had used no blood. Whatever else he intended to say died on his lips, and he stared blankly at her, but she could feel him fighting to escape her thrall. 

Never taking her eyes off of the man she lifted her own thumb to her lips and bit deeply. She then smeared the resulting blood across the man's lips, and directly over his third eye. The **Vitae** absorbed into him immediately and she breathed a sigh of relief. It was possible that his will would have been too strong for it to take. Magic users were much harder to control than the simple minded. He stood motionless, as empty as a doll, and she resumed her scrutiny. 

Though he did indeed have power, he seemed particularly ill trained, his magics unfocused. She was surprised that someone of such advanced years had so little control. It seemed more likely that he would have accidentally or purposely killed himself. He was not grounded properly, his energies flinging about him like fingers searching for an anchor in the world around him. Fear wove through his aura like an old friend. This man had spent a lifetime terrified of his own abilities, and she found herself pitying him.

She needed a local to draw from, but she doubted that such a fearful human would have much knowledge about the world at large. There were no better options at hand however, so she contented herself with what she had. Bending his head back gently she extended her fangs, and eagerly began to **feed**. The experience was a heady one, the magic permeating this man's blood was much stronger than her previous meal. She reached her will into the blood as it passed her lips, skillfully wove her oldest psychometry spell and LEARNED ... starting with the mortal's name.  **MASTER TAIGEN**.

 _ **Thedas. Fereldan. Andraste. Chantry. Templar. Circle. Bloodmage. Possession. Elfroot. Elves. Dwarves. Lyrium. Fade. Demons. War. Qunari. The BREACH.**_ Information poured into her from that vital connection to her prey. It was too much, too fast, and she could not hope to absorb it all. She refocused instead on his language. _**Trade-tongue**_. There it was … like slipping into a warm bath.

He was a very satisfying meal, and she quashed the urge to glut herself on his mana rich blood. Having had her fill she licked the wound closed, healing it with her saliva, and carefully tucked him into his bed. What she had gleaned from him horrified her. Some of the newly acquired knowledge would take more time to take root, but there was more than enough still at the forefront. 

Stark pieces of information refused to leave her thoughts. They presented somewhat like an afterimage, as if she'd stared too long at a bright light. The 'Inquisition' was the occupying force of this small town called 'Haven.' The 'Chantry' fought to retain absolute control over an ignorant population, and subjugated the peoples of this ...'Thedas' under the guise of piety. It was all too familiar a scenario.

The important thing was that she could now communicate with the denizens of this realm. She patted the old man softly; releasing him from her power. Come the morning he would not be able to recall any of this night, but she grimly acknowledged that he would not survive this encounter. His heart was weak, and she had already felt it begin to give out as she drew sustenance. He would pass into the next life with no pain however, such was the gift of a Vampire's **Vitae**. She could risk healing him as she had the prisoner, but she saw little point, it would leave her exactly where she'd started. Why go out of her way to save the life of a man who had successfully attacked her? There was nothing for her to gain here, and too much for her to lose. He had a chance … it was all she could afford to spare. 

Feeling somewhat guilty she cleaned what she could, habitually covering her tracks, and quietly left. At least she could now say with certainty that this was no afterlife. Ari'yani sighed dejectedly. Having confirmed that she was no longer on her world was more than a little daunting. All she had ever known in her three thousand, four hundred and twenty three years of life was gone. Every failure, every victory, every lesson learned ... had taken place on a lonely, pale blue dot, and now it was out of her reach.

Picking as much 'Elfroot' as she could manage from the surrounding snowy countryside; she deposited her herbal bounty in the earlier discarded basket. Haven was low on the herb and she was sure they would appreciate the help. Still, she felt unmoored, without direction … without purpose. Ari'yani had been fighting her own kind for so long … was that all that defined her? It was only then that she noticed that her hands were shaking and she clenched them stubbornly. She would overcome this, there was no other choice.

_No. I shall do more than that. I shall THRIVE. This is an opportunity, not a curse. Think of all I've yet to learn! Imagine the possibilities!_

If all she had gained this night proved true then Ari'yani was the only Vampire to ever walk this forsaken land. Her weaknesses were unknown to those that might come to threaten her. For the first time in millennia, no one was actively hunting her. All of the advantages were hers. The implications were staggering and she steeled herself for what was to come. Starting over in a new place was never any easier. That it would be on an alien planet was more than different. In fact, it changed everything.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bloodstores : **A Vampire's Reservoir of Blood. Used to fuel their abilities and maintain existence.**
> 
> Feed/Feeding/Fed : **In terms of the _Kith_ ; the consumption of blood.**
> 
> Psionicists : **Telepathy, Telekinetics, Pyschometry**
> 
> Sorcerer : **Mage specializing in demons**
> 
> Wizard : **Mage that manipulates powers within themselves and the elements**
> 
> Sensitives : **Psychic, Seer or Empath**
> 
> Shadowmeld : **Vampric Bloodmagic causing one to physically vanish, becoming one with the dark. Dispelled easily by a bright light.**
> 
> Vitae : **Blood of an Immortal.**
> 
> Fold : **Vampire Society/Culture**
> 
> Ravening : **The berserk state a Vampire risks entering when starving, dying, or when committing an act of pure evil. The source of their everlasting hunger for blood.**


	3. Blood Thrall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ari'yani gains an unwilling companion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Vampire terms are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  Languages of Thedas : **_As currently shown in this third lame example._**
> 
> Translations and Definitions are in end chapter notes.

Ari'yani stalked back towards the quieting town while lost in thought. She was so intent on parsing through her newly 'acquired' language that she almost didn't notice the young man blocking her path. Stepping into her role of lowly servant she had dropped her burden with a small yelp and ducked her head as she knelt to retrieve the scattered cuttings while muttering an apology.

She easily identified him as a 'Templar' by the emblazoned crest of a flaming sword on his cuirass. The title rolled upon her like a wave, mixing with her recollections of Christian Knights on Crusade for the Holy Land. Disgust, resentment, and above all fear shot through her, though she quickly identified the emotions as not being her own. They were the remnants of the man that lay dying in his cabin.

He looked as startled as she did and opened his mouth to speak. She would never know what he intended to say. A flaming meteor of green light streaked across the sky and impacted between them. Thrown out of the forest she slid across the snow and slammed into the stone base of the town gates with a tremendous thud. All that remained of the man was a smoking corpse sheathed in twisted metal.

Ari'yani was tired of being knocked from her feet but brushed herself off with a sudden chuckle. She reveled in being caught off guard once again. Thedas was full of the unknown. Thedas was dangerous. Thedas was trying to KILL her and she rejoiced in it; this unexpected adventure. What new obstacle would she encounter on the morrow, or the morrow after that? What thrills awaited over the hill, under the mountains, or across the seas?

She quickly discovered that the flaming meteors pouring from the 'Breach' were actually demons … not unlike those she had already faced. Soon she found herself fighting off the creatures alongside servants and soldiers alike. The mysterious storm continued to devour the night sky, and the pulses of energy that ripped through the land were only coming faster. Each successive wave seemed to slam into her, effecting disorientation and an increasingly uncomfortable pressure. It was reminiscent of her initial journey to this realm and she had no wish to relive the experience.

The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to the fact that she was a skilled killer. Instead she tried to make her victories seem more like … happy accidents. Tripping and shoving a pitchfork through a ghostly visage was more believable than trying to tear it apart with her bare hands. So was throwing a convenient bucket of ice-water and slush to slow the lava monsters that seemed to descend on them with no end. This allowed the soldiers to pick the beasts off and other villagers were soon copying this particular tactic with spectacular results.

Another explosion rocked the village and an elven stable-boy was thrown to the ground during the chaos when the horses spooked. He couldn't have been more than fifteen years old, and sustained several injuries as he was trampled into the dirt. No one spared the unconscious elf a second glance; too preoccupied with defending themselves from the latest wave of horrors. Presented with the perfect opportunity she had taken advantage of the situation; pulling him into a secluded hayloft to ease her insatiable curiosity.

She sniffed the air around him, fangs extending in anticipation at the enticing aroma. Ari'yani proceeded to drain him far more than she had originally intended. Instead of only sampling him, the unusual richness of the blood caused her to lose herself to the act; suckling as voraciously as a starving child. Coming to her senses as his heart began to stutter she stared in horror at the dying prey in her arms with an unfamiliar pang.

_I am no fledgling. I was not even hungry ... this is … I cannot allow this boy… no, this ELF to die._

Letting a mortal live or die had always been a matter of practicality, not guilt, or morality. She was no puritanical saint. Still, with this act she felt she'd become responsible for this being's life, and she was not prepared to cast it aside. The blood of the denizens of this Realm was changing her. Whether it was the new magic coursing through her veins, or the fact that blood now actually pumped via her awakened heart didn't matter.

For the second time, in a single night, she allowed a mortal to feed from HER, breaking several ancient and oft unspoken laws. This was almost unheard of for a member of the **Fold**. A Vampire's **vitae** was their most precious treasure, and to give it away so freely would have been considered madness. Yet tonight she chose to save another life. On Earth it would have meant a death sentence. Of course Ari'yani had already betrayed their laws in ways beyond count so compounding her crime really wouldn't have been a concern.

_I make the rules now. If I want to extend two lives or a hundred then who will stop me?_

They were lucky that he was her second **feeding** and she had more than enough blood to spare for this venture. However, now she was forced to weave an even tighter bond between herself and the helpless male in order to save him. Healing him would have been much simpler if she had not brought him to the brink of death in the first place. It would only have required a few drops of **vitae** to prompt simple wounds to knit. Instead he would become the first of her **Guardians** in this brutal unknown world. Oh, he would not be aware of that fact at first, but it was inevitable. He would be the first **thrall** she had risked creating in centuries.

She would have preferred not to bind him thus. It was not compassion that would have stayed her fangs. There was no telling what kind of personality he had, and it would have been easier if she had vetted the elf for a few months before OFFERING him such a position. There were side effects to receiving this gift from her after all. Some would be quite pleasant, others could be deemed by mortals to be cruel.

Over the coming nights he would begin to dream of her. His thoughts would turn to her desires, her needs, and how best to fulfill her wishes. Whatever he had been before would still be intact but it would slowly be turned toward forwarding her will. Eventually they'd not even need to speak aloud as their minds attuned to one another. 

Just as his dreams would turn to her, so too would her dreams turn to him. Unlike with the 'Qunari' she had saved she would be able to sense his presence even at great distances. His pain would be her pain, and likewise, he would be able to sense hers. She would in essence be forced to endure his presence until he was killed or, more unlikely, faded with age. This was the main reason she had not made a **Guardian** in several hundred years. Losing one was akin to losing a piece of oneself and came at a cost that took a great deal of effort to recoup.

Neither of them had much choice in the matter now. She needed a guide, and he would have to do. She watched in satisfaction as his wounds began to vanish as she placed her personal **Glyph** over his heart. It was a representation of her name, meaning she had literally just signed him. It also pleased her to note that her magic had helped to fill out his rather emaciated frame.

Traces of malnutrition and physical abuse vanished in a few short breaths. He was well built from years of hard toil and she applauded herself on her choice. The boy was actually quite handsome under all the neglect. Ari'yani then stared in wonder at one of the newly formed scars. She was stunned when even these faded as though they'd never existed. This was not her doing.

_Astonishing. The effects were absolutely magnified. He is clearly not a will worker; unless the ability lays dormant? A side effect of his species perhaps? What other secrets do you hold little pet?_

He was shorter than she was. It was unsurprising, she had not seen a single well fed mortal here so far. His growth was probably stunted. She had no doubt that would soon correct itself. He had eyes that reminded her of a sunset in the mountains, hues of yellow warring with deep orange. His hair was cropped short at the sides and she was surprised by the sudden wash of nostalgia that crept through her. She had known men who'd worn their hair in this fashion millennia ago. His ears were rather long and very pointed and she gave into her urge to touch them. Cartilage and flesh, as expected, but she smiled when it twitched away from her gentle touch.

She wondered if educating him about his new duties would be a gift, or a chore. It was always different. Some were like over eager puppies; others were willful brats in need of constant correction. Either way it would be entertaining to mold him into something destined for greatness. If he pleased her she would be sure to find a way make it worth his while. It was only a matter of learning what he cherished.

Ari'yani snuggled against her new companion with a sigh as the elf's arms unconsciously wrapped around her. It had been a long time since she had been held by anyone and she felt there was no harm in indulging him now. He would not even remember it, and she could revisit old memories of lost intimacy. His scent still made her mouth water, but knowing its effects enabled her to dampen the urge to mindlessly consume him. It was all a matter of control after all.

_Was I ever truly so young as he? … What foolishness … what do such thoughts accomplish but the opening of long gone wounds? Look ever forward, as I have always done._

They stayed this way for several hours as she thought through her options for the coming day. There was not much time before the sun rose, but she dared not return to the 'Chantry.' The mysterious **Sorcerer** would not easily give up his search for her. However, proximity was required if this bonding were to fully take hold and the boy would not wake until it did. Rising from the hay she peered out of the loft to ensure no one would see them as they left. She reached for his blood and willed him to rise. His first few steps were shaky, unbalanced, as she learned just how to command his shell.

Taking his hand in hers she strode out into the night with more confidence. She was no longer alone. Willing or not, she had a new ally, and that boded well for her future. Effecting the pose of two sated lovers, she had him lead her away from the Haven. She didn't need a building to find her rest, only a patch of earth, and someone to guard it. Besides, it would not do to have him screaming at her in full view of the town and drawing unwanted questions when he finally stirred. He would have questions. They always had questions.

Finding a nice secluded area they used their bare hands to clear away a patch of snow. Drawing on her blood she searched for something deep in the earth. There … an earth pulse … or was that Thedas pulse? It was different than on Earth, powerful, slumbering, and distant, but still there. Spilling yet another small amount of her blood she slowly merged with the cold hardened ground. Her **Guardian** lay across the dirt, his eyes still firmly shut, as she left him with a single, forceful demand. STAY.

* * * * * *

The aforementioned screaming presented as expected the following evening. She was pleased he had not frozen to death, having taken the time to build up a fire for himself. Little did he know her blood had also steeled him against the frigid conditions.

He nearly pissed himself when she appeared, asking her if she were a desire demon. She wasn't certain if she was flattered or insulted by being compared to a succubus. In the end she settled on amusement. When she'd finally awoken the boy seemed to have given up leaving. He had apparently tried, only to have nausea and her command echoing in his mind, scaring him into obedience. She waited for him to calm his hysterics before finally speaking to him.

“What is your name boy?”

“My … my n … name?”

“Yes. Name. Unless you prefer being called boy. Come now, I haven't got all night.” She pressed their new connection gently; urging him to answer. She didn't want to break the poor thing so soon.

Interestingly this seemed to give him a little more backbone. He cleared his throat and stammered, “I'm not …. I'm not a BOY.”

“Really? Are you a girl then? My apologies. Perhaps I misjudged you.” She didn't even try to hide her smirk as she appraised him. By all appearances she was checking his gender.

“Wha … that's not. I'm MALE.” He jutted his chin out stubbornly, clearly offended. This pleased her as it meant he had not yet had his spirit broken by the world. “I mean, I'm not a CHILD. I'm a proper adult. I earn a wage.”

“Oh, do you perhaps have a mate as well then,” Ari'yani hummed in amusement clasping her hands behind her back. He blushed a bright crimson and she licked her lips, appreciating the hint of his blood in the air. This only made him more flustered.

“No … no messere. No wife. I've not earned enough to keep a family yet.”

“Well, then. That is preferable. It wouldn't do to steal you away from any obligations. It would make things so much more … messy.” The boy swallowed nervously and she lunged for him, her features pulling into a snarl. Before he could react she was at his throat, sinking her teeth into his neck, and drinking deeply as he tried to fight her off. She was much too strong for him to pry away but it was over almost as quickly as it had begun. The wound was already closing as she stepped away, leaving him to fall back into the snow.

“What was that!?” he gasped, terrified.

Ari'yani squatted before the poor child as she licked the remnants of his blood from her lips with a grin. “A taste of things to come. I saved your life BOY. That makes it mine to do with as I please.”

“Stay away from me DEMON,” he yelled jumping to his feet to flee. He pivoted on his heel to run but, a heartbeat later, slammed full force into her arm, which seemed to materialize before him. “Please … leave me alone,” he shouted.

Having grown tired of his histrionics she reached through the **Bloodbond** and commanded, “STOP.”

He did exactly as instructed, staring at her in wide eyed horror, unable to even breathe.

Taking pity on him she extended her hand and compelled him to take it. She loosened her mental grip on their connection and he blinked at his traitorous appendage in confusion before finally meeting her gaze. “Do I SEEM like a demon boy,” she asked, truly curious, dropping his hand.

“Yes.” He clenched both hands at his sides then yelled, “Now stop toying with me. If you were going to kill me you would have done so already. What do you want from me?”

Ari'yani laughed, genuinely surprised by this little act of bravery. She tilted her head to the side. “You're name as I recall.”

“Devron. My name is Devron. Now will you let me go?”

She shook her head, smiling in a way that did little to alleviate his fear. “Oh, dear. I'm afraid I cannot do that. You see, as I said, I saved your life. However, doing so exacted a TERRIBLE price. We are forever bound you and I.”

The boy closed his eyes and hung his head in surrender. “What … what did I give you?”

_Ah, standard deal-making, demon lore. I can use this._

“Everything,” she purred. He sagged in defeat. “Chin up Devron. You are in my service now. I have named you my **Guardian**. It is a great honor, and there are undeniable benefits to being my servant. It isn't the end of the world.”

At this last declaration he pointedly looked up at the swirling green sky. She huffed in annoyance. “I stand corrected. Perhaps it IS the end of the world.”

The elven boy squared his shoulders and looked her in the eyes. It was remarkable how quickly he bounced from submissive to defiant. “What does being a **Guardian** entail Mistress?”

“Oh, Mistress. I like that. Such pretty words . It's simple really. A **Guardian** … guards. And for the time being you will help … to educate me. However, between the rising and setting of the sun you will guard my resting place, and ensure that I am NEVER disturbed,” she said sternly.

“What could I possibly have to teach a DEMON, and how am I supposed to keep people from … disturbing you?”

“It may or may not come as a shock to you that I know little about your people.”

“Elves?”

“Thedas. And of course you will defend me by any means necessary.”

“Oh … may I decline this HONOR,” he hissed sarcastically through gritted teeth.

“Absolutely ...” she watch his face will with hope before she crushed it by finishing, “... not.”

“Void take you.”

“I believe that's a little late in my case, don't you agree? Look here. I have no wish to be skewered by a Templar because I say or do the wrong thing. You will keep me from doing so. I may have other requirements of you from time to time. Like the little love bite I gave you earlier.” Devron ground his teeth as he remembered the attack. It had NOT been a pleasant experience. It could have been. She easily could have flooded his brain with endorphins as she fed, but Ari'yani would not share THAT sort of thing with a child. Perhaps when he was older. Shaking herself from these thoughts she continued, “Other than that you are free to do as you please so long as it does not endanger me. Though truthfully you are incapable of betraying me. We are under a **Geas** , or shall we say magical contract, binding your fate to mine. Should I die, you die as well.”

“And if I die?” he asked raising his chin.

“Then I find a NEW **Guardian** ,” she threatened in a menacing growl.

He paled as he absorbed what she was saying. “I'm … if I spend my days with you there will be no time for anything else,” he suddenly grumbled. “I will lose my earnings at the stables if I must sleep during odd hours.”

“Pity. Perhaps you can work something out with the owners?”

He snorted at that, “Elves don't work anything out with anyone but our own kind. **_Shems_** don't care who does the job, long as it's done cheap. They've made damn sure in the last thousand years that THEY own everything.” He shook his head in confusion. Ari'yani smirked. He was only now discovering that he could not lie to her.

“ ** _Shems_**?” she asked rolling the unfamiliar word in her mouth. She found it strange that it was untranslated for her.

“Oh. It's a shortened form of old elvish. **_Shemlen_** is the full word. Means quickling, or human, as in short lived. It's a slur. On account the elves used to be immortal.” He blinked as he considered the information that continued to flow out of him in a steady babble. It had obviously been involuntary.

_Intriguing. They USED to be immortal?? They somehow LOST it???_

“Meaning the elves are no longer long lived? Why not?”

“No one really knows. Some say that when humans appeared centuries ago we started to age. Others think we lost the magic that kept us forever young when our empire fell.”

“So _**Shems**_ are not originally from Thedas? Hrmm. I didn't realize the situation was so dire for your … or should I say OUR people.” She ran her finger along her own ear, causing him to blush again.

_Fallen empires and lost immortality. *Curious-er and curious-er._

“We … Um, we don't DO that. In public. Touch our ears I mean.”

“Ah. You see, you make an excellent teacher. Hrmmm, I don't suppose there are any nocturnal activities available in such a remote little village .. Are there little boy?”

“This fully grown ELF isn't interested in whoring and gambling,” he snapped. “Urr … Mistress.” He braced for a reprimand that never came.

“Are you sure? Have you tried it,” she asked slyly. “You should at least sample a little gambling. You only live once. You might be surprised at what you can now perceive.” She didn't elaborate, he would figure out soon enough that his senses were heightened to a certain degree. He was still no match for a Vampire, but he would easily outmatch a mere human … at least an untrained one. “Don't worry, I won't let you starve on my account my dear pet.”

He flinched when she called him pet then rolled his eyes saying, “Are you sure you're a Demon? You tease me like an auntie.” He then amended his observation, muttering, “A dirty minded old auntie. Maker preserve me, what have I gotten into.”

“OLD?” she asked too loudly to make it clear she had heard him. “Well … you speak the truth.” She shrugged and began walking back towards the village with a spring in her step. Things had gone much better than she had thought they would. He followed closely behind, it wasn't much of a choice on his part really. Being away from her in these early stages would likely make him violently ill … too long and it would definitely kill him.

_Will wonders never cease. I think I actually like the boy. Let us hope he lasts the week._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised here are the notes now that I've caught some sleep. I've made some changes to the chapter fixing small oversights. Please let me know what you think, commentary is love, commentary is life.
> 
> **Alice in Wonderland reference.
> 
> Fold : **Vampire Society/Culture**
> 
> Vitae : **Blood of an Immortal.**
> 
> Feed/Feeding/Fed : **In terms of the _Kith_ ; the consumption of blood.**
> 
> Guardian : **A _bloodbound, thrall_ tasked with protecting a vampire during daylight hours.**
> 
> Thrall : **A sentient servant marked with a _glyph_ and fed some of a vamipire's blood, granting them superhuman powers and enslaving them to that vampire's will. **
> 
> Glyph : **An ancient form of Heiratic predating Sanskrit, used by vampires as a brand of ownership. Some brands are visible to the naked eye, while others can be seen via magic and are marked upon a subject's aura.**
> 
> Sorcerer : **Mage specializing in demons**
> 
> Bloodbound: **When a sentient species has been enthralled by being fed _vitae_ , that Vampire can augment the process with a spell that closely binds them, providing them potency and abilities. This permanently enslaves the subject to the Vampire's will when combined with a _Glyph_. A lesser binding endears the victim towards the Vampire, and acts as a healing 'tonic', but must be periodically renewed. **
> 
> Geas : **A magical binding, prohibition, or obligation. A magical contract.**
> 
> (Elvish)  
> Shemlen/ Shem : **A quickling. Short lived. Used as a slur to mean human.**


	4. Oops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ari'yani makes some cash. Solas speaks with her. Cullen is in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Vampire terms are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  Languages of Thedas : **_As currently shown in this third lame example._**
> 
> Translations and Definitions are in end chapter notes.

The door of the ‘Singing Maiden’ slammed open with great force drawing the eyes of all who huddled for warmth within its thin walls. The blizzard raging outside seemed to disturb the figure carrying the over-large bundle very little.  Snow and frigid air swept after her into the brightly lit commons as those inside demanded she shut the door. A cold front was currently wreaking havoc on Haven’s supply lines and Ari’yani had seen no reason not to take advantage. Their loss provided her with a unique opportunity.

The room was stifling, far too many people packed together in an attempt to warm themselves before heading back to their cold tents or even colder duties. Her nose was assaulted by the odor of unwashed bodies and ale but the ever present hunger drew her attention to only one thing … prey. There was something exhilarating about wading through a crowd of vulnerable, oblivious, quarry. These poor creatures had no idea the danger they allowed to walk unchecked amongst them.  They never did. 

_Focus.  I came to feed the herds not gorge myself sick._

The dreadful weather did little to inhibit her.  In fact it provided an excellent opportunity for her to show herself during daylight hours. The extra clothing, ostensibly to ward off the freezing conditions, provided ample protection against any stray sunlight.  It was difficult to fight centuries of ingrained habit to venture forth by day but establishing her cover had been more important than her comfort.  Her daytime persona firmly established she felt there was no danger in appearing later than usual. 

Hunting had seemed a prudent way to keep both herself and Devron fed.  The blood was normally drained from mortal kills anyway. This simply meant there would be no waste.  It had been his suggestion that they obtain more than they required for quick, if little, coin. He turned out to be an abysmal hunter, but under her merciless tutelage he was shaping up rather nicely.  Devron had been stunned the first time he caught a living creature in his bare hands, but he was a quick study. She was pleasantly surprised by his willingness to learn. 

Ari’yani dusted the clinging snow from her thick winter coat and boots out of habit as she entered. Judging by the tracks of muddy footprints and stares this must have been foreign behavior but she persisted. There was nothing to be done about it now. Even a vampire could accidentally slip and more than one had met an infamous end due to simple carelessness.  There was after all a conflagration raging in the nearby fireplace. As if ordained by heaven a nearby drunk misstepped and found himself amidst the slush and muck. She smirked at him as she passed. 

Boasting dulled senses and often duller minds it was a miracle mortals hadn’t wiped themselves out centuries ago with their shortsightedness.  Of course that was also due to careful ... management … by those who used them as a food source. Intelligence was a trait that was rewarded, but rarely bred.  It wouldn't have been prudent to allow self governance by the truly exceptional; they wanted a docile population after all. 

_Quell your ego.  There are exceptions to every rule; to forget this is to be vulnerable.  We were foolish in our own right; warring upon one another. The Fold was drowning in self indulgence and old thinking ... or have I forgotten why I rebelled?_

Ari’yani thrust her burden, skinned and dressed animal carcasses, onto the bar with ease though she feigned some difficulty. They were at least wrapped in cheap leather this time to avoid the disgusted looks thrown at her kills. She really didn't understand the mortal’s disdain for knowing where their food came from.  Dead was dead. 

She’d brought a variety of game this time as Flissa had expressed a growing distaste for nug. The tavern owner’s eyes lit up when she saw the brace of ptarmigan Ari’yani had included.  She could easily have brought in several druffalo but had no way to transport what would be an ungainly load without drawing attention to her inhuman strength. They would need to buy proper gear soon. The frequency of her successful forays could be attributed to snaring techniques for only so long. 

“However did you catch so much in this dreadful weather,” the proprietor asked pleasantly as she carefully counted out Ari’yani’s standard payment. Devron had schooled her in the answer least likely to be further questioned and she provided it without hesitation. 

“Old **_elvhen_** technique.” She accepted the meager purse and tucked it into an inside pocket.  It didn't surprise her when the woman’s eyes seemed to glaze over with her explanation. Nor was she surprised when she heard at least four people scoff.  Instead of rising to challenge them she ordered a drink. The culture of disdain worked in her favor in this case. 

Flissa eyed her with actual concern as the hostility towards her rose. “You sure you wouldn't like something warm to eat as well? You’ll be nothin’ but bone the way you and your brother have been working.” She directed her next statement loudly, subtlety chastising her more unruly patrons.   “I dread what we’d be forced to serve without the meat you’ve supplied. Naught but gruel more’n likely. Or maybe just hard tack and leftover lard.” This seemed to have the calming effect she intended as the drunken grumbling subsided.  Flissa winked and the Vampire feigned a shy smile. 

“Just the wine, thank you.” Removing her soaked coat she found the most secluded corner table and attempted to blend into the background.  She hung the dripping garment from the back of her chair. This next step of her venture was prone to failure but she’d worked at it patiently for weeks.  They needed to see her and identify her by sight alone then just as easily dismiss her. The mob needed to trust that they knew all there was to know. She didn't want too much attention, just enough to garner a feasible background and a modicum of trust. 

With her growing funds she might be able to afford outfitting them both with more appropriate hunting gear soon.  The better to sell their story. Devron was an orphan, there was no family to miss him, no spouse, or brood to mourn his disappearance.  Luckily his employer hadn't survived the last wave of demons either. There was no one left to question his new identity as her younger brother.  New refugees arrived from the ravaged countryside daily. This meant a larger crowd to get lost in. Two strangers in an ever expanding sea of faces. 

She had sent the boy to sell the salvageable pelts to the local armorsmith but it hadn’t occurred to her they might not be available due to the weather. It would seem she was out of practice when concerning mortal limitations.  Selling them to the merchant Seggrit would have been akin to working for free. Ari’yani’s new persona was a hardened survivor. She did not work without something to gain. That shameless _Shem_ merchant price gouged the elves, which she masqueraded as, and would be dealt with at a later date.  Haven needed his services ... for the moment. 

Her life may be long, but she still considered her time valuable.  Ari’yani had no intention of taking a mortal lifetime to build her wealth and influence, but slow and steady did tend to win the race.  If there was anything she truly owned here it was experience and patience. She would need to rescind Devron’s orders lest he spend the entire night waiting. Perhaps after her ‘drink’. She had only just arrived and abruptly leaving would be out of character.  Their bond was still too new for a mental command at this distance and unfortunately was something only time would strengthen. 

The Vampire had been nursing her mug for a little over an hour when most of the huddled masses began filing out.  Some had to be carried rather than leave under their own power. There hadn’t even been any brawling and she wondered why that would be when the answer to her question emerged from one of the large chairs by the fire.  She recalled the blonde Templar from their earlier encounter and tried to avoid meeting his appraising gaze. 

Ari’yani didn't know much about the Commander of this Inquisition's forces, but what she did know demanded a certain level of respect.  He was a fine specimen of human male, one that would have been worshipped in the gladiatorial arenas of yore. The aristocrats of that period surely would have clamoured for his … services.

Corporal punishment was rare but when it was meted out there was no doubt the victim deserved it.  It was too easy for a military leader to default to brutality, but this Rutherford was calculated and from all accounts as hard on himself as the rawest recruits.  This was no paunchy, Roman, politician feasting in his palatial tent while his legionary starved.

_ Thousands of years and I still harbor a grudge.  Superior equipment, superior tactics, and a superior army.  One cannot win wars with eagerness alone.They won, we lost, why can I not simply accept that after all these years? _

Drills, not patrols, had been canceled all day but she honestly had not expected him to dine with the rabble this evening.  Even the command tent must have become unbearable. Ari’yani was unsure if it spoke well of the current leadership or boded ill for their chances of success.  She stared into her drink; trying to plan for every contingency.

This backwater had mattered little to her at first, but when the ‘Herald of Andraste’ managed to stem the tide of destruction she had opted to stay.  The Herald’s condition seemed stable, and the not-quite-minotaur had fortuitously been placed in an upper management position. Ari’yani hadn't believed her good fortune.  With one reckless choice she had managed to weave herself into the fabric of a fanatical organization with an army to back it. That they were ignorant of the fact worked to her advantage. It was also amusing.

Of course getting close to the newly appointed savior of the known world would not be as simple as striding up to him and greeting him.  She was still terribly curious to sample this new breed, and she really needed to check for degradation of her hastily executed bloodrite.  He was never truly alone but she was determined to find an opportunity for a conscious interaction. Perhaps an accidental meeting would be most efficient.

She had been doing her best to ignore the buzzing that accompanied the presence of any Templar and tensed as the Commander approached.  His gentle, “Milady,” as he passed was barely audible and she stared after him in confusion. Why speak to her at all, let alone at a volume no mortal would ever discern? Had she misstepped in some way?  

_ Damn my pride. _

The Vampire glared at his back as the night swallowed him and the door slammed shut.  There was no help for it, even if she were being baited this warranted investigation. Should it come to the worst she could always cut her loses and try to entrench herself elsewhere.  Devron would whine like a mule in heat no doubt, but she had no intention of leaving him here without her.

The quiet puttering of Flissa was a welcome change to the earlier cacophony.  The soft swish of the broom seemed overly loud in the nearly vacant building. The woman was used to her staying later than most, and Ari’yani had sometimes even helped her to clean her little establishment.  She was not in the mood tonight however and swirled the wine absently before pretending to drink. Sure that she was the last to remain she was just about to surreptitiously dispose of it when she caught the most delectable scent.

She paused mid-dump and slowly tilted her nose into the drifting aroma.  It didn't occur to her what it must have looked like until too late. Ari’yani’s eyes were closed, her head slowly bobbing as she softly huffed the air.  The hunger demanded to be fed, it demanded she kill, it demanded she glut herself. With tremendous effort she tore her mind away from the allure of beastial oblivion.

Eyes flying open she saw a very bald elf side eying her from his very own shadowed corner.  He was the only bald male she had encountered thus far. That and his staff led her to the reasonable conclusion that here sat the source of the magic that had awakened her beneath the Chantry.  He wore a beige, threadbare, tunic so patched and full of tears it was a wonder it remained intact at all. 

She noted with a sinking feeling that the cut matched her only top. The same tunic she had been wearing since the night of her arrival, stolen from a random window sill because she judged it would fit her frame. They were nearly identical, differing only in color, and she had seen no similar clothing worn about.  The uneven stitching was a dead give away. The style appeared foreign to Fereldan. So much for her good luck.

_ Cursed be all.  I should have bought a new one weeks ago.  I would have if Devron hadn’t insisted I buy this overcoat.  Poetic that I should be wearing the Sorcerer's own shirt.  _

Flissa chose that moment to check her stocks in the back.  She removed her apron, slinging it across the bar as she spoke. “Would you be a dear and lock the main door? I’ll be right back.”  Ari’yani had finally gained her trust, but the Vampire lamented the wretched timing.  Flissa had definitely not noticed her other remaining guest.

He closed the book he’d been reading with a snap and rose to leave.  The motion drove more of the delicious aroma around her. The musk of so many humans had clearly masked his presence.  By all appearances he had no interest in her whatsoever. Ari’yani was not so easily fooled by her eyes. 

She had heard his heartbeat quicken when their eyes briefly met.  He’d had clear opportunity to have seen her trying to dispose of her drink.  In fact he may have been observing her longer than she’d care to admit. If he truly was the source of the power she had sensed then his current bearing was as much a masquerade as her own.  She could not afford for a dangerous unknown to grow more curious about her.

Given no choice she drained a substantial portion of the wine while trying to make it appear like a small sip. Her stomach protested almost immediately, with painful cramping, but she would just have to endure.  It was a good thing she no longer had a need to sweat or the sheen might have given her away. He paused as he neared and she looked up at him warily. This elf was far taller than the other elves she’d encountered, and taller than even she.

“I will not inquire for specifics.  However, if the need were that pressing … I would have offered some assistance,” he intoned without preamble.  It was safe to assume he had drawn similar conclusions while she stared at him like an ungroomed pleb. It spoke well of him that he expected her deductive reasoning to be on par with his own.  His scent enveloped her now and she struggled to respond through the haze of ravenous thirst. 

“I will return them.  My apologies,” she finally responded, tearing her gaze from the throbbing pulse at his neck and staring at the table.  Ari’yani could feel him analyzing her and tried to keep their encounter brief. Her fangs were beginning to descend and she held her breath to shut out the call of his blood.  “I was desperate. It is rather cold outside.” She felt him relax but refused to look up.

“Then you chose poorly.”  He gestured to the hole in her sleeve.  “I am afraid they offer little protection.”

“Better than what I had.”  She glanced up a moment to gauge his reaction and saw him frown.  Her insides felt as though they were on fire, the wine making a considerable effort to leave her body.  “If you do not want them returned worse for wear … I will replace them." She hoped he would misinterpret her uncomfortable fidgeting as nervousness.

He sighed.  “Your need was greater.  Keep them.” How altruistic of him.  He clearly had little to give. Why was he not insisting on her swift arrest and punishment?  Perhaps this was to lure her into a false sense of security. The strange elven mage turned to go and she gave into impulse.

“ **_Ar...i’ya...ni_ ** ,” she stuttered; trying to maintain her cover of embarrassed thief.  His head snapped back to her, his glare hardening into something dangerous and she felt her blood run cold.  Her heart hammered so loudly she was sure he would notice it at any moment. The air seemed to press in on her from all sides. Her instincts screamed for her to run.  Instead she dug her claws into the wood of the chair, steadying her nerves. “My name … is Ari’yani.” The danger passed as quickly as it had appeared. 

_ A powerful mage indeed, I shall have to avoid him at all costs. What angered him so? _

He nodded, once, in affirmation.  The practiced movement drew her attention though she couldn’t fathom why.  “ **_On dhea'lam_ **. I am Solas. Do not hesitate to approach me in the future.” This was no request, but a definite command.  He was used to being heeded. Who was this elf to have picked up such a habit? 

The humble, innocuous, hermit was firmly back in place and without another word he slipped out into the night. Ari’yani threw on her coat, then fled in the opposite direction, not even bothering to wish Flissa a good night. Her vision was beginning to swim as the need to purge the infernal alcohol threatened to overwhelm her.

It would have been safer to expel the poisonous liquid beyond the walls of Haven, but she had used all her will to resist attacking yet another elf like a mindless creature.  She was impaired, but her visceral reaction to Solas’ mere presence terrified her. Without control she was no more than another monster, easily caught, and not so easily slain.  

Her efforts to keep the contents of her stomach failed utterly as she ducked into a shadowed alley.  She lost the battle, unaware of anything but the pain as she heaved up a thick combination of blood and cheap wine.  She was so overcome that she took no notice of the approaching footsteps. 

The human caught her by complete surprise but she was unable to stop her retching even as he cautiously approached.  He paused to consider her,squinting, no doubt unable to see her clearly in the gloom. “Well, well. Lookit … a knife-ear all alone.  Wha’s a matter love. Couldn’ ‘andle yer drink?” He crept closer; ill intent written in his swagger.

The human’s smarmy grin faded when she turned to face him with a menacing snarl. She had no need of witnesses, and certainly not witnesses of low character, and possibly even lower wit. He clung to his weapon, pissing himself as the true horror of what he’d encountered alone in the dark slammed home.  

Ari’yani’s perception of time seemed to slow as his eyes widened comically. He registered the blood, dripping like ichor from her teeth. The soldier swallowed, his muscles tensing to run, but she was already upon him. Ari’yani opened his throat wide before she considered the consequences. The arterial spray, coating the nearby wall and more importantly her face, broke the last of her fraying resolve.  She latched onto the gaping wound to **feed** .  Every suckle eased the agonizing ache within her but she found no joy in this feast.  His death was the proof of her failure.

The situation was further complicated when she noted the stuttering, armored footsteps that stopped just beyond her shaded kill. “Who goes there? Vance, I know you followed her in here, report at once!” The authoritative voice of Commander Rutherford brooked no argument.  The chivalrous fool was here to rescue her. This was a disaster. Thinking quickly Ari’yani fell backward,taking the body with her, and let out a frightened screech.  He entered the alley with his sword drawn only to sheath it and hurl the man who seemed to have pinned her. She covered her face with both hands and pretended to sob.

He realized the man was dead moments before three faint droplets of Ari’yani’s blood connected with his skin.  Unsure if the spell would hold on such a man she continued to play the damsel. “I’m sorry! I … I didnt mean to.  He attacked me … and .. and…”

The human shook his head, clearly dazed, but knelt to comfort her. “Did … are you alright milady?”  His concern was so genuine she peaked between her fingers to look at him. Rutherford fell to his knees, his piercing eyes searching her own for answers.

“Is … is he dead?”  She sniffled, all the while pressing with her magic, trying to shape his memory to match the story she was weaving.  Something seemed to click into place and the Commander stopped moving. He collapsed, into the blood and mud, and she rushed from her huddled position. 

Unsheathing his sword she stabbed Vance several times for effect.  She then posed the two humans together, and with a soft apology, used Vance’s gauntlet to cuff the Commander. His head would be ringing come the morrow. She wiped his memory of the last hour, just as she had the first guard she’d encountered.

_ If I had only waited a few more moments this would not be so complicated.  He would have ‘rescued’ me and I could be on my way. This. This is how I will die.  A stupid mistake, in a stupid alley, in a stupid town no one shall ever care about. _

Wiping the blood from her face with his tabard and some nearby snow she stared at the corpse with detached curiosity.  While it was truly the first full meal she’d had in weeks she’d found it to be … dissatisfying. Devron was far more palatable but she didn't like the idea of limiting her own food supply with pickiness.

She had planned on destroying the evidence of her regurgitative adventure but now thought better of it. Given this particular man’s reputation it was unlikely his death would come as a surprise to anyone. His body also provided a convenient excuse for the blood spattered everywhere.  No clean up necessary, and far less work for her. It would also be entertaining to see how the mortals reacted.  Perhaps she’d make a game of it. 

Unfortunately for Rutherford she had already spent a portion of her evening praising his intelligence.  He would not have proof, but he might question what transpired this evening. There was no help for it now. If she intended to remain here ... the Commander would need to be leashed. 

She didn't have time for more elaborate measures, there was shouting, and the clamour of armor. Rutherford had not been subtle when calling out her would be attacker. They were clearly sounding an alarm and looking for their wayward officer.  Sighing in frustration Ari’yani fed him a few drops of her blood. It would have to suffice. She cursed Solas to the nine hells for her predicament, and vanished into the shroud of the forest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Elvish)  
>  elvhen - **elven name for their own race; our people**  
>  Ar I'ya ni - **They're friendly**  
>  On dhea'lam - **Good evening**
> 
> Side note. I didn't name her in elvish on purpose. It's acutally a combination of two of my old gamer tags, but when I figured out what I'd accidentally named her I couldn't resist. XD


	5. Smile Everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ari'yani has feelings. Commander gets dinner and a little extra. Devron complicates things with Leliana.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, I finished it before the end of October!
> 
> Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Vampire terms are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  Languages of Thedas : **_As currently shown in this third lame example._**
> 
> Translations and Definitions are in end chapter notes.

Ari’yani forgot to rescind her **thrall’s** orders. Consequently he spent the entire night waiting out the storm near the stables. It had not been her intention to torture the poor boy, it had merely slipped her mind in all the excitement. When he came trudging back into their corner of the forest he had been absolutely wretched. 

Devron didn’t return to their sequestered campsite until late the following evening and he was … less than happy. He had spent the entire night waiting for the smiths to make an appearance. Though he made a decent payday he made it LOUDLY clear what he thought of being left caught between her command and common sense. His arms were laden with the purchases she had instructed him to procure. 

She was surprised that having forgotten upset her and let Devron complain as she analyzed the feeling. There was no logical reason that a **thrall** following her commands should cause her unease. Yet it truly did … and she had no idea how to approach the subject. So she gave him the next week off. 

“Off … as in … what am I to do with myself?” He appeared thoroughly confused and she did not blame him. Nothing in her previous behavior suggested she would favor him with a reward for doing exactly as instructed. 

“What did you do for leisure before we met?” 

If she truly were a demon in possession of his soul then it was hers to do with as she pleased … at least as she understood it. She was still not entirely clear on the demons of her new world, other than their physical manifestations wreaking havoc near Haven. Ari’yani scowled, unable to reconcile her own feelings on the matter. 

“I … I haven’t ever … I mean I would play as a small child? What do I … I mean …” He looked thoroughly flustered at this point. 

“Whatever you would like, so long as you do not betray my secret. You have earned it.” 

“But …” 

“That’s an order **Guardian.** Starting right now you will do something for yourself. Two weeks then, to do as you like,” she growled suddenly and he subsided without another word. She rubbed her face in frustration. That had not proceeded as she had planned. Would he truly be doing things for his own sake or would it be him following another command? He should be grateful, not questioning her suddenly beneficent attitude. Things had been much simpler on Earth when she had not been saddled with … what? 

“I … I apologize Devron,” she said further surprising herself. He looked at her with open disbelief and she schooled her expression so as not to give away that she had not meant to say such a thing. “I shall make the intentions clearer in future. I have not had such considerations in centuries.” She was becoming more disturbed to find that she meant it. Her heart actually felt heavy with the guilt of leaving him in the snow with no explanations. 

_Damnation … a conscience. That’s what this is. I’ve been infected with the desire to what … make him feel better??? What next, shall I begin helping orphans and building charitable works!?_

“Centuries …” Devron shook his head slipping back into an angry scowl. “It was a near thing Mistress. If you had not specified I pay for these I may have been compelled to steal them for you.” 

“So steal them next time,” she snapped, “So long as you are not caught.” Devron flinched and she felt that twinge again. This was becoming very annoying. 

He sat on the log near the fire she had built with a groan. “It … It is like a building pressure. I cannot think it becomes so loud. Screaming in my mind to obey. Nothing else matters ...” 

“So I have been told ... It does not change things **Guardian** but I did not set out to trap you. I only wanted to survive here. I had never eaten from an elf before … you were already injured, trampled in the demon attack. I chose to save you when I partook too much.” 

_Why are you explaining yourself! Send him away before this foolishness gets both of you killed! This is unnatural. Something is very wrong!_

“Oh, lucky me,” he grumbled. 

“Yes. Lucky for both of us. Else you would be dead along with your stable master and I without a guide in this backwards world.” Ari’yani angrily pitched the tent he had bought for them. She did not need it but he would sleep more comfortably now. It was a simple matter and she finished far quicker than he would have. “My last **Guardian** didn’t cause me this much trouble,” she mumbled. 

He turned to look at her with a haggard expression. “Then you’ve done this before? To others?” 

Ari’yani stared into the fire as she took her seat and rested her chin on her folded hands. She didn’t know why she answered. “Three times, in three thousand years. Each served me unto their deaths.” She was distressed to hear the crack in her voice as she recalled them. Clearing her throat she continued as though it hadn’t occurred. “It did not appeal to me. An evil I learned to live without.” 

She mentally screamed for herself to stop unburdening herself to him. His ordeal was not fair compensation for all she was revealing, yet she felt compelled to tell him. She calmed herself with the fact things would be easier for them both if they were on friendly terms. 

“Why are you telling me these things …” He swallowed nervously. “How … you are no demon are you?” 

She raised a brow at him. He had sussed it out already. Intelligence was normally a good thing in a servant, but too intelligent and he might work out a way to betray her. Loopholes were the bane of this binding. After all if she had lied about being a demon, what else had she lied about? Not that she had actively been hiding her true nature from him. Still she had thought the scare tactic might last longer. A few more months at the very least. 

“What makes you say that,” she growled, her eyes flaring red, but he looked at her unflinchingly. 

“You are horrible, selfish, and uncaring on the surface … and don’t misunderstand me. You’re absolutely terrifying when you want to be but you don’t feel … foul. It’s like … like I know you didn’t mean to. As if ... I can feel you.” 

_This is too soon. We are bonding faster than … damnation I don’t know what SHOULD be in this unpredictable world. It shouldn’t affect ME at all!_

“Close enough to be considered one by the Templars I would wager. I need your blood to live after all. No doubt you have noticed my need to **feed** ,” she said menacingly. The elf's face paled in memory as she gave him a hungry stare and licked her lips. His growing fear made her feel sick to her stomach. She wanted Devron to LIKE her. No, none of this was normal. 

She sighed, scrubbing her face again to will away these foreign thoughts and feelings. They did not speak further as she outfitted him properly and sent the tired boy to sleep with a hot meal. She watched his slumbering form with that unnatural fondness and spat a quiet curse. This was ridiculous. 

HE was supposed to be guarding HER, not the other way around! The mortal was a pet to be used and discarded once his usefulness was at an end. Instead she found herself watching over him like a mother hen. Ari’yani had much to ponder and did not wish to do so in front of her sleeping **Guardian**. She strode into the forest to rid herself of the sight and feel of him. She needed to work some other problem. She would deal with this new development later. 

_Commander Cullen. Focus on one error in judgment at a time. That missing soldier will become a problem again if I don’t act. Another necessary evil for my continued existence… or is it? Have I simply gotten used to the expedient path? I could simply have fled. I still could._

_My blood charm will fade on the chivalrous Commander. The ACTUAL memory is too strong, and he will remember the truth eventually if I let him. That man has too strong a will. They will hunt me down as a bloodmage, abomination, or demon. Even I cannot survive a mob. They burn people here … and bear no love for blood magic. What am I but an incarnation of all they fear? Besides, where would I go?_

_No. There is no choice. I must bind him to me. I’d prefer no more thralls, perhaps I can leave it as a weekly dosing? He can get me closer to their Herald. Without renewing the_ **vitae** _the Qunari will soon begin dying again. I can feel it waning. Surely their mages must have noticed by now. Without that rift closing ability the world shall end and I cannot have that. I just arrived in this wondrous place. I suppose I am to be its unseen savior. I must simply REMAIN unnoticed._

She smiled, feeling more like herself as she schemed. There was nothing quite like the thrill of outwitting one’s enemies. Doubly so when they didn't even know they were playing. The Commander’s schedule was predictable, like clockwork, and she would use that. The poor human still had her blood in his system, he would not suspect duplicity from her. The trick would be in assuring no one else did either. 

*****

Ari’yani **fed** from elves exclusively for the next week. Although she avoided **feeding** from Devron, as per his impromptu vacation. She hunted always under the cover of darkness and left them with a pleasant memory that didn’t involve her. They awoke unharmed, more tired than usual, and a little weak. She could not help the stabbing guilt that built within her that they were overworked second class citizens but she was becoming more adept at ignoring it. 

_What if … what if it is the very act of feeding from them that is DOING this to me._

Their blood was sweeter, stronger, and would allow her to resist the lure of sleep longer in daylight hours. It was also hard to resist the pull it had on her. Human blood just … wasn’t as fulfilling. She was not omniscient but she prided herself in not making the same mistake twice. Yet she continued to **feed** from them. 

Her progress on other fronts was much more satisfying. The soldier’s death at the Commander’s hand was widely accepted as self defense. His passing was not mourned by the elven population and even human doubters acknowledged he’d had it coming. Her persona was firmly established in Haven as one of the hunter duo. Ari’yani and her ‘brother’ were more often welcomed by smiles than insults and she found herself looking forward to speaking with many of the locals. She even began running small errands for extra coin including message and meal delivery. Devron spent much of his time lingering in the Tavern or near the recruits. 

She managed to bring Commander Cullen his evening meal one night and slipped a drop of her blood into his tea. Her hand had moved too quickly for him to see, and the wound on her thumb was gone long before he would have noticed. He was distracted as he went over troop assignments and drank it all in one go. Ari’yani caught him staring at her as she cleared away his dishes later and had smiled kindly at him as he blushed. She gave him her name when he asked for it on the third day she delivered his untainted meal. 

Ari’yani watched the Commander as closely as possible while trying not to appear sinister. Her brother's presence worked as a feasible excuse to be near. If anyone were to guess she was merely one of a dozen girls smitten with him. She had centuries of practice with play acting the part. The timed blush, the softly bitten lip, and uncomfortable shuffling should his gaze land upon her. He of course could not help but notice her; having tasted her blood more than once. It was not an overt call; but more a subconscious suggestion that said ‘trustworthy.’ 

She noticed something during those observations most mortals would likely not. The Vampire was still unsure of the limitations of Thedosian mage and racial capabilities. He did not hum as strongly as other Templars for one. It was likely why she hadn’t sensed him that fateful night. He also seemed to be under some invisible strain, weakening as the end of day approached. 

There were the telltale signs of oft endured pain in his bearing and she noted that he was not sleeping properly. There were too many late nights she found him awake and by all accounts he was an early riser. She could smell the stink of unhealthy sweat and vomit lingering on him; too faint for normal senses to detect. He was a fastidious man in an age where cleanliness was not the norm. It all pointed to one obvious fact … hiding the symptoms of withdrawal. 

The Commander was not taking the poison the others of his Order did anymore. It raised her already high opinion of him. This was her opening however and she WOULD exploit it. His health seemed much improved since her last dose and she resolved to find a way to give him an ‘old _**elvhen**_ ’ remedy for headaches later. It would be a more efficient way to ensure he had a steady supply of her **vitae**. She was not always assigned to his dinner tray. 

The weather turned for the better and her fortunes for the worse. After the supply lines were reestablished she found her income halved. This was inconvenient. It was also more difficult to make appearances during the day. The lack of cloud cover was becoming a serious concern. The map of safe, windowless buildings, dark alcoves, and tents grew in her mind. She conveniently let slip to Flissa that she and her brother would need to leave for greener pastures if their fortunes didn’t turn for the better. 

She was approached by a scout the very next evening while watching recruits being drilled and was politely asked to accompany him to meet with someone called the Nightingale. That was a name she had come to recognize. Either this was very good, or very bad. 

Whispers about Leliana implied she was a ruthless assassin for the Chantry, but also claimed she had a love of ornate shoes and those hideous pink nugs. The spymaster was surrounded by all manner of rumor and it was hard to pinpoint which might be true … or if all of them were. Ari’yani supposed it was to be expected of anyone that played politics and Leliana had risen to the side of the recently deceased Divine. That meant she played the game well. 

“I have heard much in my reports of late regarding two mysterious elven hunters who arrived just after the Breach occurred.” Leliana looked up from her paper laden workspace. Ari’yani raised a brow when she saw her ‘brother’ was also in the tent awaiting her. “You have endeared yourselves to many … very quickly.” 

Devron seemed nervous, but Ari’yani had withstood far more sinister interrogations. Still she pretended to be as well. After all she was but a lowly elf in the presence of a dangerous, and powerful human woman. The way she moved, encumbered with her hooded tabard, and light chainmail was not lost on the Vampire. This was not someone she wanted to come to the attention of. 

“Have we … offended anyone with our presence,” she asked while carefully planning their escape route. 

Leliana smiled prettily but it held all the warmth of a viper. Unfortunately for the Nightingale it did little to affect the Vampire. Ari’yani was currently running through the most efficient ways to kill her. A swiftly broken neck was the most obvious choice but would leave her vulnerable to the guards. The human woman didn't need to know this however. 

“Not at all. Quite the opposite in fact. There is no need to fret. The Inquisition has benefited by your contributions. Your prices have been fair in a time when others have taken advantage of those in need.” 

Ari’yani made of show of wringing her hands together. “Then you aren’t asking us to leave? We are prepared to be on our way. We don't want any trouble.” She stepped beside Devron, taking a defensive posture that he failed to echo. This had her instantly on alert. 

Leliana raised a delicate eyebrow. “I was under the impression you would be joining us … officially.” The glint in her eyes showed this oversight was anything but an accident. 

Ari’yani looked at her **thrall** in surprise. “Is that so.” 

“It seems I have mistepped. I had thought you were aware of the pledge your … brother, has agreed to.” Ari’yani noted the pause the woman used before naming him her kin. The sneaky woman knew they weren’t related. Someone must have remembered or recognized him. Someone they had not anticipated. 

The Vampire stepped back from him with a full glare. “Something you’d like to share,” she growled. “Brother.” The Vampire had acknowledged the woman’s suspicion. Let her believe that was the extent of their secrets. 

Devron sighed, but she caught the strange glance from him before he finally spoke. “I meant to tell you Riya. I really did, but I knew what you’d say about joining the _**Shems**_. You said to do what I wanted. This is what I want. We can make a difference here, I know it, if you’d just give it a chance!” He phrased it all as though it were a well worn argument and she followed suit. 

“And when they no longer need a couple of knife-ears?” She bit out the slur with more venom than she felt. It was simple enough to conjure the anger of being viewed as lesser simply by an accident of birth. The poor Chieftain's daughter turned beaten Roman slave. 

The Nightingale interjected smoothly with her sales pitch. “The Inquisition means to change that. You would be equal here. As we are all equal in the eyes if the Maker.” So, she had determined that the older sister was the one that needed convincing. 

Ari’yani scoffed derisively, dropping all pretense of submissive behavior. “Pretty words Nightingale. As I recall humans have a habit of forgetting their promises when convenient.” 

The red head was undeterred. “Change must start somewhere. Would you continue as you always have; chased from one village and city to the next? Or would you welcome the chance to be a part of that change? You are excellent trackers used to living in the wilds. Experienced Scouts … and agents, are hard to come by.” 

Devron placed a hand on Ari’yani’s shoulder and she flinched. “Riya … trust me.” She looked into her **Guardian’s** eyes and nodded with feigned reluctance. Trust was something she could afford with someone who had no choice but to comply with her wishes. It made sense for them to join. This actually worked in her favor, and though he had done so behind her back she could not fault his logic. 

_I did tell him to do whatever he wanted … cheeky thing._

Looking directly at Leliana she said, “I want strictly night duty, to be assigned with Devron exclusively… and you have a deal.” They worked out the details swiftly and even had a salary. When they had to sign their names the Spymaster had been thrilled to find they were literate. Ari’yani determined to teach Devron something from Earth … their own private language. Coded messages seemed to be in their future. 

“You were raised Dalish,” Leliana said firmly as they turned to leave her tent. 

_Dalish … those are the nomad elves I think. Is that what she thinks? I’m some savage that recruited the stableboy?_

Ari’yani raised a brow. “Was I?” 

“I do not recognize your _**Vallaslin** ,_ hidden though they are under your tunic … but it is your pride that marks you as different. You are not as afraid as you pretend. Pretend harder. I may need you to pass for a city dweller. Welcome to the Inquisition.” The Nightingale looked back to her missives in a clear dismissal. Ari’yani grew more wary at her declarations. This woman was far more dangerous, and observant than she had given her credit for. 

_ What in blazes is a … vaseline?? _  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Vampire)  
>  Guardian : **A _bloodbound, thrall_ tasked with protecting a vampire during daylight hours.**
> 
> Thrall : **A sentient servant marked with a _glyph_ and fed some of a vampire's blood, granting them superhuman powers and enslaving them to that vampire's will. **
> 
> Vitae : **Blood of an Immortal.**
> 
> Feed/Feeding/Fed : **In terms of the _Kith_ ; the consumption of blood.**
> 
> (Elvish)  
> Shemlen/ Shem : **A quickling. Short lived. Used as a slur to mean human.**
> 
> Elvhen - **elven name for their own race; our people**  
>  Vallaslin - **Elven bloodwriting. Tattooed magical markings to the Elvhen Gods.**


	6. Blooded Kin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ari'yani gives Devron an ultimatum. Cullen is flustered. The supposed siblings are both tested by the Inquisition. Ari'yani threatens Leliana.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts are written in Italics : _As currently shown in this lame example._  
>  Vampire terms are written in bold: **As currently shown in this second lame example.**  
>  Languages of Thedas : **_As currently shown in this third lame example._**  
>  Telepathy: * **As currently shown** *
> 
> Translations and Definitions are in end chapter notes.

_ That was too easy. _

Leliana had given into her demands for night duty without hesitation but that only seemed to increase Ai’yani’s unease as they returned to their hidden camp. She had been far too accommodating; acquiescing to her request for meetings after nightfall without protest. Devron walked at her side silently, but pensively, awaiting the inevitable storm of her outrage. Perhaps the clever thing was even praying for her to lose control and finally kill him. What she chose to do instead of unleashing a tirade only served to confuse him. She liked it that way.

Ari’yani silently started their fire with an offhanded gesture. Devron, never having seen her do that, jumped and stared at her with renewed fear. It was a paltry cantrip, one she had used mostly to light candles in her early years as a dramatic tool. Instead of berating him, she diced vegetables, and set a cast iron pot over the flames. 

Cooking had a kind of rhythm that she found soothing. It was all about chemistry. Though there was arguably something beautiful about manipulating ingredients to create something beyond basic nutrition. Just because she could not eat, did not mean her  **Guardian** had to suffer bland food, and she threw in some suet and garlic without explanation. They treat the useful plant as a weed in Ferelden … fools.

_ I can no longer eat … but I remember. The texture; a watering mouth at the simple scent of searing venison … smoke. Warm bone broth on cold winter mornings; huddled beneath furs with my tribe. Crisp fruit plucked from the wild like a gift from the Gods when the weather turned. Even smell is different now … more information than my human self would have been able to cope with. Now there is only … what the beast demands and it demands it all. _

She scooped snow into the pot with a soft sigh. Devron startled at the sound. The scent of his fear was stinking up the entire camp, mixing with the sharpness of the cooking meal, but she gave him no reprieve. He kept glancing at her for some sign of her emotional state and she took a small measure of satisfaction in watching him squirm uncomfortably.

Ari’yani contemplated the now simmering bean concoction with no outward sign of her agitation. Her actions were two fold. One; to feed her rebellious little minion. Two; to give the spy that had followed them a false sense of security. The red haired dwarf had been careful, but not careful enough to avoid detection. She debated killing her briefly, but it would cause more complications than she was currently willing to tolerate.

The ancient vampire had shown the interloper she was a caster on purpose. It was time to up the ante. The dwarf would assume she was an Apostate. It would explain more than enough of her eccentric behavior away. Mystery solved for the Nightingale. Temporarily at the least.

All mages were apostates now, and if she recalled correctly, the Dalish were known to have their own mages. Separate from their Chantry system it should buy her more time if nothing else. Survival meant always being ten steps ahead of whatever wanted to kill you. Everything was a chess move, every action, every inaction, measured against the highest stakes. Life and Death.

Ari’yani had grown careless in the knowledge that no one knew what she was. The Vampire had failed to anticipate the Spymaster’s interest in one lowly elven hunter. Her newly, overdeveloped conscience, had her questioning her own actions, and Devron had taken clear advantage of the fact. She had made assumptions about this realm based on past experience but the truth was, she knew far too little of Thedas and its denizens … or what they were capable of. 

These were not simple medieval peasants, despite the similarities … they were alien or rather SHE was alien. That anyone would seek to flush HER out had never even occurred to her. Still she risked herself. This Inquisition was growing more interesting by the day. Most of what she had gleaned about them was piecemeal and full of guess work. A memory here, a snatched conversation, or rumor there. It was too enticing for her to simply abandon them now.

Her choices thus far had been, by nature, expedient and she hated to admit to herself ... lazy. Over the centuries the vampire had grown complacent because of a modern world filled with fat, unobservant, herds. People went missing all the time and more often than not, were never found. Humans never stopped to think anything beyond being thankful it wasn’t themselves or in rarer cases their families. It is always someone else’s problem.

They would shrug, give the appropriately programmed response, and blissfully go back to their pathetic lives. Good little sheeple, content to be ignored, and mediocre. It sickened her to admit even she had become reliant on their ever growing technologies. Thinking back … it was why Invictus had finally been able to catch her off guard. She had been distracted, foolish, and sloppy.

Here, everyone knew everyone's business. Spymasters need only sift through the information, discarding embellishment, keeping what was corroborated. There wasn’t a barrage of media to distract people from one another. A missing person was noticed. Gossip and rumor were the lifeblood of communities this small. It was one of the most accessible forms of entertainment availble.

Yet Ari’yani was clearly repeating her old mistakes. Leliana and Devron’s scheming was a damning condemnation of her tactics up to this point. As amusing as she found his ingenuity it was time to remind him of his place in the scheme of things. She mourned that it must be done. He would view her differently after this, the gently kindled trust quashed all too soon, but she would survive at all cost. 

She pretended to eat alongside him though taking a much smaller serving and later returning most of it to the pot. They banked the fire, stored the leftover food for morning, and packed most of their belongings in silence. They were to report to the barracks for formal assignment on the morrow. It was not until Devron lay on his bedroll, and furs, that she quietly crouched beside him to hiss into his pointed ear. She hated expending blood to control him but it was a familiar tool.

“I’m impressed. No. Be still. Do not speak. It is time for you to listen.” She curled closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder as she gripped it painfully. He would carry the bruising shape of her fingers for days. “Know this little mortal. I have decided not to EAT you. If you EVER take action behind my back again … I will make you into a Blood Eagle.” 

She was still whispering, just loud enough for his now enhanced hearing to pick up. Her angry, harsh, tone would be undetectable from a distance. They merely appeared to be having a private, intimate, moment for any who still observed. He glanced at her in mute terror as she continued. Her command prevented him from speaking but she could see the question burning in his eyes.

“Do you want to know what that is? You may move your head.” He nodded slowly, reluctantly, fear etched into every line of him. “First, I will sever your ribs from your spine. That is, snap each one like a twig betwixt my fingers. I will pull your useless lungs through your back like bloody wings then string you from the Chantry roof … all while you are still VERY much ALIVE.”

Devron lay shaking on his side as she finished. Whether from the gravelly menace in her voice, or the actual description, she didn’t care. His little stunt could easily have gotten her killed. That it worked out this time was a fluke; not a rule. Ari’yani commanded him to sleep and told him his vacation was permanently over. Tomorrow night the real work began. She had delayed long enough.

*****

Her fifth throwing dart was protruding from the training dummy and Ari’yani tried not to appear too bored … or frustrated. She risked much despite being swaddled tightly. The sun was on the cusp of setting and being wakened early always put her in a foul mood. Luckily it was still midwinter and no one questioned her attire.

Leliana had left them to the tender mercies of a certain Commander who was currently looking put out for having to take time out of his schedule to assess a couple of would be rogues when he could be supervising his own recruits. The human didn’t say it, but he wasn’t even paying attention as she struck the dummy again, flawlessly. He seemed to be distracted by the parchment he continued to shuffle in hand.

The Spymaster had bartered his services far later than she had normally seen him run drills. Ari’yani supposed it was better than doing this in front of raw recruits. They were too busy collapsing into their tents to cause any problems. She kept an eye out just in case.

The Templar wasn’t even dressed appropriately for the weather. It was odd to see the Commander in a swordsman’s tunic rather than his armor; without his trademark fur mantle. Judging by the misting puffs of his breath he should have been freezing. He was sweating but she detected less of the poison in his system and no illness besides.

Her  **vitae** was flushing him out. That didn’t explain why he refused to look her in the eye. She swore she could feel him watching only for his nose to be firmly turned toward whatever he was reading when she turned to check. The Lyrium that remained in his blood seemed to obfuscate him. She could sense the unnerving hum, but not track his movements. It was a weakness she would take into account from now on.

Devron had gone first, and Cullen had found him to be barely passable with anything. It had been painful to watch as the Commander grew increasingly agitated; pinching the bridge of his nose. He had ordered him to do laps and she hoped no one had noted her thrall looking to her for confirmation first. Ari’yani, who had been training him thus far, was more than aware he needed more practise. The Commander had been brutal in his critique and she expected the same treatment. 

However Devron’s questionable skill left her in a kind of bind. Leliana was aware that she had been training the poor boy. She also expected Ari’yani to have grown up in a nomadic existence. How skilled was too skilled in this land? She decided to play it safe … showcasing only marginally better prowess with daggers and now the short sword. She had yet to prove her skill with a bow. Ari’yani had accumulated more knowledge than would be possible in a mortal lifetime. The throwing darts had seemed a safe thing to show more finesse in.

At least, that had been her plan until Cullen seemed intent on pretending she didn’t exist. To test her theory she executed a backflip before angrily chucking the large blade. Who threw a sword in combat? Surely that would get some kind of reaction from him. It tore clear through, embedding itself into the frozen hill behind the targets. He didn’t say a word… didn’t even seem to have noticed. That was the last straw. The sun had set properly and she ripped the cowl from her face.

With an angry growl she charged the dummy and beheaded it with one furious blow of her dagger. There were startled gasps from several off duty Templars that had begun watching this test and there were whispered comments of admiration. She had splintered the wood. Bending over to pick up the remnant of her enemy she turned just in time to see the Commander had been ogling her rear end; his face slowly painted in a furious red as she met his eyes.

_ Oh, for the love of … that is what has been going on? One would think he had never seen a woman’s … hrmm. Come to think of it, what are a Templar’s vows? _

Throwing the straw filled burlap at the Commander’s head with a crooked smile; she sauntered toward the next pell. He easily caught it but was looking at her with trepidation. The poor man was reacting to the blood she had been feeding him no doubt. Mortals did not always react with lust or attraction, but it had been known to happen. This was turning out to be a far more entertaining evening that she had anticipated. It actually spoke volumes of his willpower that he did not act on it.

“I saw that.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he muttered, though his face seemed more like a beacon by the second.

“Truly? So the Commander WASN’T taking a long … hard … look at my … demonstration? Would that not be dereliction of duty?” He sputtered incoherently as she approached the next dummy and neatly ‘umanned’ the poor thing. She had embedded her dagger at crotch level. With exaggerated slowness, her back turned just right, she bent to retrieve her dagger.

“Well,” she asked huskily; as she wrenched it free.

“Well … what,” the flustered Commander breathed, before clearing his throat.

“My ASSessment?” Ari’yani approached him; her face the picture of innocence.

“I … that is …” The Commander backed away, using his reports, and the still clutched burlap, as an impromptu shield of sorts.

_ He is adorable really … like a puppy. _

“Look. Commander. I have already caught you,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper. “Show a little backbone and admit what you’ve done. You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last.” She was close enough to scent the arousal on his skin, the heat of his body wafting his pheromones in such close proximity. He swallowed nervously. The poor thing was completely distracted.

Cullen was neatly saved from his predicament when a messenger approached with more damnable paperwork. She was still unclear if all messengers were scouts, and if all scouts were agents of the Nightingale.The vampire smirked as the flustered man dropped his extra burden and turned to speak with the confused subordinate.

Ari’yani walked away with a little extra sway of her hips, saying, “I shall just take my leisure at the tavern then! Do let me know if I passed this test. Devron! Finish up and meet me for a drink brother!” She clapped her hands in time with the elf’s strides and he threw her a glare as he ran by. “Those are legs! Move them correctly,” she barked with a laugh as she settled her hands upon her hips. He had no choice but to follow her orders and his stride improved. She felt the prickle of his frustration and paused to consider.

* **Do you hear me now?** * Devron stumbled; much to the amusement of those soldiers still present. He turned to look at her and seemed about to yell across the muddy training yard. * **Do not answer aloud simpleton! Are you TRYING to draw attention?!** * She tiredly rubbed her forehead and groaned in exasperation.

* **… Ye … yes? Hear … I … yes ... Mistress.** * He removed the worst of the mud from himself although he was positively caked in it now.

* **Interesting. It appears we must accelerate my time table.** * Her thrall unintentionally projected a sense of deep rooted dread at her. * **There is nothing to fear. This makes you far more valuable alive pet. Consider it another shield against my extremely limited patience.** * He did not seem reassured.

She turned and left for the Singing Maiden as though they weren't interacting. He picked himself up from the slush and began running again. Only three laps to go. His emotions grated on her and she was equal parts pleased and disappointed as the distance weakened their tentative connection. Thedas made a mockery of all her gifts. They all seemed to contain a hidden barb designed to eat away at her resolve. He was a servant; not her friend. She could not have it both ways.

Ari’yani only just made it past the main gate. A sudden spike of foriegn fear made her stop and turn back to see what had happened in the few seconds she had vacated the grounds. Devron lay on the ground, sprawled on his back, and several human men were intent on kicking him to death it seemed.

“I know you took it you filthy knife-ear!” Devron managed to hit one of the men hard enough to incapacitate him. The leader of this pack of bullies responded by kicking her thrall in the face. She could taste the blood from here and as his fear and pain washed over her, she saw red, and then only black.

Ari’yani didn’t remember crossing the distance between her and the bleeding elf. The vampire also didn’t recall breaking the human mercenary’s arm. Judging by his incoherent screaming and the way the other men backed away from her it was logical to assume she had in fact done so. She wasn’t even armed. What could she have possibly been thinking?!

_ I wasn’t thinking. I was reacting. Interesting. _

The humans were behaving oddly. Something about the entire situation seemed contrived. None of the soldiers had left their posts, and she could still smell the Commander lingering near. On a hunch she dropped her guard and beckoned for the one nearest her. He looked at the others and they shoved him closer. Odd indeed. Why come at her one at a time? They did not even appear overly concerned by the fellow cursing quite profusely from the cold ground.

“Devron. Stand up. I believe the  **_shems_ ** have earned a lesson in humility.” He rose to his feet, shaken, and still very afraid.

An unlucky man lunged for her and she struck him on the pressure points of his arms; rendering them limp and useless. Ari’yani was pretty sure she knew what was going on now and dropped him on the growing heap of injured men. The next one attacked her with murderous intent, a dagger and brass knuckles missing her by centimeters. She could have simply torn him limb from limb but that would end this game with the Nightingale much too soon for her liking.

Ari’yani disarmed him easily enough but needed some way to end the fight without injuring him too badly. He swung at her wildly and she could have dodged every incoming strike without even trying. Thinking this might be a little out of place, she instead allowed his next blow to connect with her ribs. When he tried to tackle her, she redirected his fall, and he landed screaming as he fell onto the nearby campfire. He rolled on the ground, desperately trying to put himself out even as a pot of boiling liquid connected with his skin. She faced her last opponent.

“Walk away **shem** ,” she growled. The man looked around desperately for backup then brandished his dagger. 

The scent of blood in the air was in no danger of overwhelming her, but she reveled in the violence. It had been weeks since she had killed anything larger than a nug. Her instincts screamed at her to drain this pathetic man as he stood shaking in his boots. Ari’yani was making doubly sure it didn't come to that. Whatever side effect had caused her to black out, she would investigate, but for the time being she WOULD stay in CONTROL. She lowered her arms.

“Devron. Bleed him,” she said cooly.

Her thrall jumped to obey with a feral roar, knocking the man flat with one, overeager throat punch. The man’s weapon fell uselessly at her feet. As the ruffian lay gasping for breath the injured elf punched him, again, and again as he straddled his attacker. He gave into something primal inside himself; something that had lain dormant and long forgotten. Pushed too far, too long, her pet unleashed the fury of a lifetime of undeserved abuse. The steady drum of his fist connecting with the poor human’s face, wet, and thudding was punctuated by Devron’s broken chant.

“Never ... again. Never … again! Never!”

Several guards attempted to pull him off his unconscious victim. Ari’yani simply observed with a growing sense of … pride. He threw off their grasping hands; continuing his assault single mindedly. Blood soaked into the snow and muck and she watched in fascination. Would he kill the now defenseless man?

“Enough,” came the Nightingale’s authoritative voice. He ignored the woman and continued his unforgiving blows.

“Devron.” He paused throwing Ari’yani a glance of pure loathing. “The Nightingale gave you an order little brother. Best to heed her.” The thrall rose to his feet calmly. Too calmly he released the still breathing human’s shirt and rose to his feet. He breathed heavily, raising his chin, and strode to her side without a word.

“Seen enough little bird,” Ari’yani asked as she gave the Spymaster a tight lipped smile.

“Clean this up,” Leliana ordered two aides at her side. The Vampire was not surprised as they shackled the men.

“Prisoners? What did you offer them?”

“A chance to earn their freedom.”

“So you lied.” The Nightingale gave her a piercing stare, her gaze steady, confident.

“I did not.” She approached them with her hands at her back, graceful, and dangerous. “We have much to discuss. You will report to my tent at sunrise.”

_ And so it begins. _

“We already volunteered,” Devron spat. He wiped at the blood that continued to drip from his broken nose. “You promised us night duty.”

“So I did.” She turned to leave. The human scum had already been dragged away. No one moved to arrest the ‘siblings.’

“Injure my brother again and you won’t live to see morning Leliana,” Ari’yani called after her absently as she reached to set Devron to rights. She heard the quiet stumble in the Spymaster's stride. It was small, and likely not noticed by anyone else. 

“Duly noted.” Cullen charged after the Nightingale. Judging by his expression they were about to have a tremendous screaming match.

Ari’yani grinned at the hard stare Devron gave her and abruptly set his nose. She smeared a measure of her blood over it, there was so much of his own, a little more would go unnoticed. He didn’t complain. He showed no sign of weakness even as his nose began to painfully knit back together.

“Are you insane?”

“No one hurts my kin. Except for me.” She smiled larger as he shook his head in exasperation.

“Let me buy you two a drink. You look like you need it.” The deep jovial voice surprised her and she whirled to view the new interloper. “Hamish Adaar. That was some brawl.” The Herald of Andraste loomed over her and she returned his easy smile.

_ Excellent. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guardian : **A _bloodbound, thrall_ tasked with protecting a vampire during daylight hours.**
> 
> Vitae : **Blood of an Immortal.**


	7. BREAD CRUMBS

Hamish was … very handsy. He was currently dragging her by the arm towards the tavern, ignoring her prepared protests with a large grin, and booming laughter. She easily could have broken free but that would only draw more attention than his theatrics already were. Ari’yani could practically feel the eyes of soldiers, spies, and bystanders following their swift progress.

Well … this is unexpected. Does this Herald take nothing seriously?!

The large man slammed open the wooden door hard enough that it shook the building. The patrons inside grew silent at the boisterous entrance of their proclaimed Herald. He seemed oblivious to the hard stares sent her way as he pulled her to a table by the roaring fireplace. Ari’yani tried to maintain her usual stern and unapproachable air, but it was futile in the face of his enthusiasm.

“Flissa!! We need drinks over here,” he called to the surprised woman.

She found herself unceremoniously dropped into one of the chairs across from a very surprised looking dwarf. Devron trailed in behind them at a more dignified pace; the sides of his mouth quirking as he took a seat nearby. He avoided her baleful glare and ordered himself a drink.

“Who have you kidnapped this time, Hamstring? I have it on good authority that beautiful women don’t tend to appreciate that kind of treatment,” the dwarf said in amusement. His tone suggested he was carefree and relaxed. Ari’yani knew better. He was putting up a front. The question was why. He nodded at her with what she supposed was meant to be a charming smile as she assessed him.

“Is it not too cold to wear so little covering one’s assets?” The Vampire stared pointedly at the copious amount of chest hair his low cut shirt did nothing to hide.

He paused for a beat before bursting into laughter. “My eyes are up here pretty lady.” She was surprised to observe that not all of his good humor was feigned.

“Pleased to meet you Ser …” she let her question hang between them, hoping he would choose to fill in the blanks without much prompting. She already had a vague idea as to his identity but actual introductions couldn't hurt.

“Varric Tethras, at your service.”

“Oh. You are the author? Flissa speaks highly of you.” The dwarf smiled, seeming pleasantly surprised that she hadn't known him on sight. She gave him a smile in return. “I am called Ari'yani.” She rolled the ‘r’ and extended the vowels of her name habitually.

“Well that's a mouthful. Don't worry I'll come up with something fitting.” He winked at her and she shook her head.

“Should I be concerned?”

“Hamstring,” Hamish groaned, eliciting more laughter from the dwarf. Flissa approached then, winking at her for some reason, and passed each their drinks. Seeing the only opportunity she was likely to get she gambled. The Vampire, of course, ensured Flissa spilled Hamish’s ale all over his lap. The woman was all flustered apologies, and while everyone's attention was turned, Ari'yani slipped three drops of her blood into her own drink.

“No harm done Flissa. You know I can't stand this brew. Here,” she said sliding her drink across the table to Hamish in offering.

He gave her a quick tip of his forehead as he reached for the mug. She noted that one of his horns appeared to have been damaged recently. A large crack had formed and he chuckled when he saw her examining it.

“No horn balm. Demon tried to rip it off pretty good. Looks like I'll have to cut it or the crack will spread.” He gave a very subtle sniff of the rim of the drink that most would not have caught. So the horned man was cautious with his food and drink. A good showing on his part. He turned it upward and drank greedily.

Unfortunately for Hamish his body would already know what it needed. Her blood. Even without examining him she could see the strain the mark was beginning to put on him again. She swirled and flexed her hand beneath the table, weaving the spell subtly, and restitching the seams so to speak. Ari'yani snorted, leaning back into her chair as Hamish finished the drink and slammed the empty mug on the table. His loud belch was actually quite impressive. He stared at the drink for a moment longer than necessary before frowning and flexing his left hand.

“Does it hurt?” Ari'yani asked, seemingly full of simple, innocent curiosity. She couldn't help herself. Her need to know had always been one of her many weaknesses.

His eyes snapped to hers questioningly and she internally cursed her mistake. “I’ve been getting that question a lot. For the first time, without Solas’s help, I can say it’s not too bad.” She tried to appear as if she had misunderstood his implication.

“That’s good to hear. It would be a shame if the hero of the hour were forced to endure pain as well as the abominable workload they've foisted upon you.” Ari'yani gave him a close lipped smile. She hoped with all her might that he did not question his good fortune. He was not bound to her as yet, and given the power needed to continually heal him, it might not ever be possible. The most she could hope for was a vague … sense of camaraderie.

Her tone expressed true concern for Hamish's wellbeing and she internally kicked herself. Her turn of phrase had been … less than ideal. Did she WANT them to catch her? She wasn't lying of course. The Vampire wanted very much for him to be healthy and whole. For her own reasons of course.

“Where are you from, if you don't mind me asking,” Varric interjected. “Gotta say you sound like a Marcher but your way with words … it's a little odd?”

“Oh? I had not realized. I suppose I am from many different places.”

“That. There. You're too stiff. Proper. Reminds me of another elf come to think of it.” He gestured over her shoulder.

The polite clearing of a throat from behind surprised her, and she whipped her head around to look up at a familiar, piercing, stare. She had been so distracted by the Herald's reaction she had failed to note him. Solas looked between the Herald and herself before bringing a chair over to their table without ceremony and examined the mark. Ari'yani tensed … she had grossly miscalculated. Solas and the Herald had laid a trap for her. Had she given herself away that night? Both Hamish and Solas seemed very aware she had done something. She prepared to make a run for it and was surprised when Solas merely nodded as he finished and sat back with a book. Varric looked between the three of them with narrowed eyes.

She was thankful she had fed in the last few days as the elf's scent was growing stronger, the longer he lingered. Ari'yani licked her lips, forcing herself to look away from him. It was easier to control her urges now that she was aware of the effect he had on her but it still took quite a bit of will. She firmly clamped down on the growing desire to feast. This close proximity could be an even bigger disaster if she was not careful.

“Alright, what’s going on here, Hamstring? Did this lovely lady make you forget your pain? Perhaps … sending _blood_ to different places?” He sounded like he was joking, but everyone at the table was aware of the subtext. Varric was looking pointedly at her hand … the one she had cut. It was already healed but he must have seen the wound. He subtly nodded at the Herald's completely healed horn … the crack was GONE.

_Of all the foolish … damn my pride. *Devron, prepare yourself!*_

Ari'yani fixed the dwarf with a hard stare. Tonight was full of the unexpectedly observant. She moved to rise when Hamish placed a warning hand on hers and she looked up; expecting more of the local disdain for anything to do with magic. Her thrall rose to his feet from the corner table; his hand already on his dagger, and his face contorted in growing anger.

“Thank you,” Hamish whispered and she stared at him impassively. His voice was full of sincere relief. Both the elf and dwarf were watching her closely.

Torn between her instincts, and the chance she might be able to work this debacle to her advantage, she finally nodded. She waved for her ‘brother’ to stand down and retook her seat. Devron obeyed, but she could see him fighting the compulsion. It warred with his innate need to keep her safe. A conflict in her orders. She would need to clarify, soon, or he would be driven mad. The tension at the table seemed to melt away with her acknowledgement.

“How-”

“I've been around my fair share of magic,” Varric said with a smirk. “He's been getting worse. You offer him a drink and it suddenly gets better? Not hard to put two and two together.” She was stunned … he was not even a mage. Had she underestimated these people?

“I have been unable to get close enough to … I felt it was worth the risk of exposure,” she said quietly. She watched them all from her downturned lashes, trying to exude defeat. “I hear he is our only hope of saving the world.”

“You have perhaps not been as careful as you imagine _**da'len**_ ,” Solas offered from over the top of his book. That was not a word she was familiar with. She side eyed him, but did not enquire. Ari’yani reasoned that the word was elven. It would not do for the strange Dalish mage not to speak her own language. Still … what did the word mean? Had he just insulted her? “Though I am impressed. You somehow managed to reach a well guarded prisoner in the middle of a crisis.”

She shrugged, grinning in truth, as she replied. Ari'yani did love the opportunity to speak plainly. “Right time. Right place. A sleeping guard is not the most efficient in their duties, would you not agree?” Hamish let go of her hand humming as he flexed his hand again.

“Indeed. Convenient. You also evaded my interruption of the process.” Solas gave up the pretense of reading and looked her in the eyes as he spoke. “I am interested in what you have actually done to calm the mark. I am not familiar with … your focused studies. It does however explain the lack of your presence in the Fade.”

_Fade … that word again. So it is an actual physical space? Perhaps I should befriend this elf. He seems knowledgeable in areas I have yet to find another source for._

“I'm not sure any of you truly wish to know the answer to that question,” she whispered slyly. The tension was back but she was having far too much fun. It could grow quite boring hiding what she was. “Suffice it to say the … spell …” Solas noticed her pause. “... must be regularly renewed. Until I can find a more permanent solution.” That gained their firm attention. “Unless … Will I be needing to move on?”

Hamish shook his head firmly and declared in a rush, “I would prefer that you stayed.” She looked into his red rimmed eyes. The pain must have been nearly unbearable for that reaction. “I have it on good authority that I owe you my life.”

“And if I am uncovered?” she asked delicately raising a brow.

“I will not allow anyone to harm you.”

Ari'yani scoffed. “How would you prevent it? I am an evil, dangerous, monster … according to the Chantry,” she asked curiously. She wondered why Solas seemed to observe Hamish for his answer more closely than herself. There was more going on in this conversation than she could decipher. Perhaps she was missing context?

“Whatever I had to,” he declared without hesitation. Ari'yani blinked in surprise. She had done nothing to earn such a heartfelt declaration.

“Speaking of traveling,” Varric said, smoothly changing the subject. “You never did answer. Where are you from?”

Their conversation abruptly ceased as the Seeker and Commander Cullen entered the tavern. Flissa delivered their repast without needing to take their orders. Both were notably consistent in what they ordered. Cullen took up his usual seat though she noted that his gaze lingered on her. His infatuation was clearly growing, though she did not know if others had observed it yet. Ari'yani excused herself, trying to get away from the confining space without answering Varric. Judging by the wary glances exchanged; those at her table assumed she was trying to avoid the newly arrived soldiers. It was a logical conclusion given they assumed she had just confessed to being a bloodmage.

Neither assumption was true of course. Solas’ aroma had only grown stronger as they conversed and she was not sure she could explain away suddenly jumping the elf in full view of everyone. His intellect was also enticing in a way that made dispatching him out of the question. Why was her reaction to him so powerful? Was it because he was also a mage? No other elf garnered such a strong pull from her hunger. It may in fact have been what drew her to his airing clothing on the night of her arrival.

As she passed Cullen he cleared his throat and she glanced down casually at the flustered Commander. “Would … would you care to join us?” He was adorably flustered, which further annoyed her, and she debated taking him up on his offer when the Seeker made room for her on the bench. Ari'yani sighed and reluctantly took the offered seat. She noted with amusement that Varric looked like his eyes would bug out of his skull.

She took the opportunity to establish she did in fact eat, plucking a potato from his plate, she palmed it, making a show of chewing, swallowing and licking her fingers. They both stared at her and she chuckled. “Have I offended?”

“No, I mean. It was just unexpected,” Cullen stammered.

“Was there something I could assist either of you with in particular? Or is this a social call?”

Cassandra finished the last of her stew, wiping her mouth delicately on an embroidered handkerchief. Ari'yani noted it. Even eating as quickly as any member of a military force Cassandra had been poised. Clearly the Seeker was not raised a commoner. Her table manners were ingrained since childhood.

“Your fighting style is quite unique,” the Seeker began. Ari'yani filed away the strong accent as belonging to a country called Nevarra. She found it interesting that Thedas had a common tongue and wondered what the actual language of the country might sound like.

“Not amongst my own kind.” There was an awkward pause and she bit her tongue. Strictly speaking she had not lied but where was this recklessness coming from? It were as if she were baiting the mortals, daring them all to catch her. It was entertaining … and worrying. First Devron's public rescue, then healing the Herald, now she spread breadcrumbs like a fledgling.

_Maybe I am simply tired of existing in the shadows as Victor so loved to taunt. Might it be possible to … change my circumstances? Foolish twaddle. Humanity will react the same as they have always done. Violence and flame._

“It was interesting, and impressive … I had no idea the Dalish had developed such an effective method of fighting.” The Seeker didn't seem invested in this conversation. Ari’yani internally relaxed as Cassandra not so subtely kicked the Commander on his shin under the table. Cullen winced but looked at Ari'yani sheepishly. Chastised by his friend, for it was obvious they were close not only in terms of rank, he turned to the vampire reluctantly.

“I … apologize for not … paying proper attention to your demonstration. I was inexcusably distracted.”

Ari'yani smiled then, leaning forward so that her cleavage was more visible through her threadbare shirt. She was now purposefully taunting the poor man. “Oh? Was I distracting you from something important?” Cullen's eyes drifted inevitably down and Cassandra gave a disbelieving groan. His eyes snapped back up and Ari’yani waved away his now sputtering apology with a gentle laugh. The Seeker urged her to stay, eager to discuss her fighting technique, or perhaps simply trying to smooth things over.

“Unfortunately, I have an early appointment on the morrow. Perhaps another time.” Her ‘brother’ had already moved to the door at her mental command. She waved to Hamish with a smile and they made their hasty retreat. Internally giggling as Cassandra snidely whispered for Cullen to stop ogling Ari'yani's hindquarters. The commander groaned in response, unable to explain away his strange, rude, behavior.

As they were enveloped by the snowy night Ari’yani turned to her thrall with a frown. “Things just became more complicated.” His only answer was to roll his eyes. They spoke quietly, making plans within plans. His relief, as she simplified her standing orders was amusing. She did not fully understand her own behavior, but she could not deny that her boredom of the last few centuries had evaporated. No matter the course of her future, she found herself truly smiling. She loved Thedas.

*****

The Storm Coast was absolutely one of the most miserable places she had ever traversed and she cursed Leliana again. Rain. Buckets, nay, torrents of water. It was ALWAYS raining it seemed. She was grateful that the cold did not bother her as the mortals. However it did nothing to stop the pervasive, annoying, wetness of waterlogged leather and never ending mud. It got into everything. Seams that appeared perfectly adequate were soon proven otherwise. The only good news was that the sun was not a concern here.

She had no doubts the Nightingale had assigned her this quagmire in a petty sort of vengeance but she couldn't deny that she and her thrall were more equipped to handle it than the average scout. Ari'yani also had to admit to herself that she had brought it on herself. Devron seemed to gaining a perverse sense of joy each time she complained.

“Why are you snickering over there? You are as mired as I am.”

“Perhaps threatening our new employer was not in our best interests then,” he said smugly.

“She deserved it,” the Vampire grumbled. Both stopped talking when they detected the gruff whispering ahead of them on the trail. No human would have detected the near silent communication. Unfortunately for her prey, neither of them were human.

They made short work of the bandits and she mourned the loss of their blood as it seeped into the mud. “I should have eaten at least one,” she sighed. Devron shuddered and looked away as she dipped a finger into the cooling blood and licked it from her finger. Testing her new limits in this realm was paramount. She spit it out in disgust earning a raised brow from him. “I cannot drink from the dead, or rather I can, but the effects are not pleasant. I had hoped it had changed ...”

“Oh?” The rising hope in his voice would need to be crushed.

Ari'yani smirked at him. “I can smell the difference. Do not attempt anything foolish young one.”

“Why tell me at all, Mistress?” He sounded reasonably dejected now.

“All children require an education. Yours is my responsibility. If you survive the experience, and impress me, then I will offer you the dark gift,” she said with a sinister grin.

“What-”

“Eternal life. You would become as I am.”

“And if I refuse this … gift?”

Ari'yani shrugged. “Then you shall die a mortal death … in approximately three hundred years.” Devron stopped climbing for a moment when he lost his footing and she grabbed him one handed to prevent his fall. “As I said … if you survive the experience,” she chastised.

They finished cresting the large, rocky, hill to see the large shack they were meant to meet the rest of the Inquisition forces at and she frowned. “Well that's disappointing.” Devron paled as his nose too detected the scent of old death. She casually chased the scavengers away from the bodies and growled. They were all scouts. Clearly they had been outmatched. Devron brought a sheaf of papers to her attention. A bloody hand print on one of the reports detailed a group in the area called the Blades of Hessarian. Another note, conveniently nearby, seemed to be instructions on creating a necklace of challenge. It was some sort of insignia.

“What do you make of this?”

“Never heard of them before … why would they leave something like this for us to find?”

“Excellent question,” Ari'yani said while nodding. “We would do well simply to report this …”

“BuUuut,” he asked with a knowing groan.

“But, I shall not. This claims to outline the guidelines in challenge for leadership. I think this shall work to my advantage nicely.” The vampire smirked in anticipation. This could be fortuitous indeed. Devron looked concerned but nodded. He was in no position to disagree after all.


End file.
